Dark Land
by Tegan1
Summary: Professor Snape and Hermione Granger must work together when they are trapped in a dark,still world. SS/HG [COMPLETE]
1. Fissures

Dark Land  
By Tegan   
tegan2828@yahoo.com

**Disclaimer**: Everything recognizable from the Harry Potter universe belongs to J.K. Rowling, no infringement is intended to any copyright holder 

**Summary: **

Hogwarts is thought to be the one safe haven from a direct attack by Voldemort, though Hermione Granger and Professor Snape find that this does not mean the castle is safe. The two must work together when they are thrust into a dark, still world. SS/HG Romance 

**Dark****Land**

**Chapter 1: Fissures **

Hermione moved easily through the maze of students gathering for dinner in the Great Hall, as she made her way to sit at the Gryffindor Table. Her eyes scanned the new and familiar faces engaged in the animated conversations that brought life to Hogwarts. 

As she reached her seat across from Ron and Harry, she smiled a light hello to the two, who were currently engaged in a heated debate over the Chudley Cannons' Seeker, Devon Daedalus. The Cannons had placed third in the league this year, largely due to Devon's skill and special "Daedalus Dive"; just when and how to best use this move were of utmost concern to the duo. 

"Boys and Quidditch," Hermione sighed, knowing full well it would be impossible to focus their attention on anything else at present. 

Within the next few moments, mounds of mashed potatoes, baked chicken, ham, Yorkshire pudding, peas, and carrots appeared on the tables filling her lungs with the most delicious aroma. She pondered how this routine had amazed and excited her after the Sorting Ceremony, as her thoughts drifted to previous events. 

This year had started off well enough. It had been only three weeks since the beginning of her seventh year. The weather had been particularly warm and pleasant, and the bright sunshine filtering through Hogwart's windows filled its hallways with a sense of comfort and light contentment. 

The seventh year classes were especially challenging. Her teachers wanted to instill the students with as much knowledge as possible in preparation for the NEWTS. Hermione preferred the in-depth study of specific areas within the general Wizarding fields, and seventh year classes provided that in abundance. 

Looking around the room, Hermione could easily push aside the growing danger that had reappeared in her fourth year. School was a safe haven for learning, as well as a distraction from the dark times the Wizarding community now faced. 

For the first few months after the Triwizard Tournament, the Ministry of Magic, headed by Cornelius Fudge, had adamantly denied Voldemort's resurrection claiming Harry was not in his right mind. The Daily Prophet supported the Ministry's claims by running a series of articles condemning the once adored "Boy Who Lived." 

This all ended the Christmas Holiday of their fifth year, when Voldemort began very publicly taking revenge on all who had opposed him. 

No one was safe. 

Top officials and Aurors suddenly vanished without a trace. Muggle-born witches and wizards, along with their families, were being violently attacked and murdered. The Dark Mark's frightening glow above homes had again become a nightmarish reality for those unlucky enough to be targeted. 

Voldemort preferred whole families together when his servants visited leaving no potential enemies to resist him. Hermione found that separation from her family was her best line of defense. As a result, much of her summer vacations was spent with Ron at the Burrow, and she extended her stay at school through winter break. 

Hermione knew that temporary separation from her parents was a small price to pay for their safety. Dumbledore had placed protective wards on all the Muggle-born students' homes last summer; nevertheless, she doubted their effectiveness should Voldemort ever become determined. 

Hogwarts however, remained the one place that Hermione was free to be at ease. 

During Voldemort's first reign, the only wizard he feared was Albus Dumbledore. Hermione took comfort in the knowledge that Voldemort never attacked the school in the 1970's, and was unlikely to attack Hogwarts now, as long as Dumbledore remained. 

A waving hand in front of Hermione's face brought her out of her reverie. Hermione lifted her head to look at Ron and Harry staring at her quizzically. 

"What's going on that you're not telling us?" Harry questioned in a low voice which would carry no further than to her and Ron. 

"What are you talking about?" 

"Well, the professors have gone missing, haven't they?," Ron motioned with his eyes towards the High Table, "and your mind is off elsewhere. They'd tell the Head Girl wouldn't they, if something was wrong?" 

"Hmm, well I have no clue. It must be something particular to keep Dumbledore and the heads of houses away though." Hermione's voice began to trail off in contemplation. 

Hermione caught the edge of anxiety on the boys' faces and reassured, "Really, I'm sure everything is fine. What I'm worried about is our Advanced Potions class. The infusion of wormwood is a very difficult process to begin the year with, and I'm sure it will be mentioned on the NEWTS. I'm going to review Magical Drafts and Potions, and One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi this weekend. If you'd like we could form a study group to thoroughly explore the topic, or I could lend you the books when I'm through with them," a slight curl formed on her lips. 

"NEWTS?" Ron coughed out as he choked on his milk. "At least give us time to unpack before bringing up that lot!" 

Hermione leaned back giggling at the feigned disgust showing on Ron's face. Rolling her eyes, she glanced quickly at the enchanted ceiling that now burned with color from the setting sun. 

A dark image appeared near the edge of a cloud, but quickly glided across the ceiling catching her attention. 

"What in the world?" Hermione gasped pointing at the image. 

"Don't suppose that's part of the natural sky." Harry replied, his eyes wide with amazement. 

The apparition was indeed unnatural. It resembled a shadow, though the deep onyx black was darker than anything Hermione had ever seen. Its depths hid whatever lay within its boundaries. The edges of the square shaped figure were warped in a concave manner, as if fighting to remain open. 

Just as quickly as it had appeared, the edges collapsed upon themselves leaving no trace of its existence. 

The trio's musings were soon interrupted by the entrance of two of their missing professors. 

Dumbledore entered the Great Hall from a plain door near the High Table. He made his way to the center of the table followed closely by an obviously tense McGonagall. 

Professor McGonagall whispered something to the remaining teachers and quietly led them through the door from which she had entered. 

Hermione decided something must be very wrong. 

Standing behind his seat at the High Table, Hermione saw that the twinkle in the headmaster's bright blue eyes was now replaced by determination and concern. Dumbledore held his arms out wide signaling an announcement. He began once the room fell silent. 

"Ahem," clearing his throat, Dumbledore looked soberly around the room. "A concern has arisen that requires the faculty and staff's attention. I must ask that the students return to their House Common Rooms for the remainder of the evening. Prefects, you will please escort your housemates back to your common rooms. Send word of any disturbances or unusual occurrences with your house ghost." 

With that short and intentionally vague statement, Dumbledore motioned to the prefects, who moved to the ends of their house tables leading the students out of the Great Hall in four orderly lines. 

~~~***~~~~ 

As Head Girl, Hermione stood by the portrait of The Fat Lady waiting for her housemates to walk through. By the time Hermione entered with the last of the first years, the Gryffindor Common Room was disorganized commotion at its worst. The confused students began spreading wild tales becoming louder and more excitable with each new story. 

"Quiet!" Hermione commanded shooting red sparks toward the ceiling. In stunned silence, the students turned to face her, fear emanating from their bodies. 

Calmly, Hermione began, "Yes, well that's better. Now, before we go off half-cocked mad at the most preposterous claims, let's focus on the facts." She paused giving the students a hard glare, "Several things are obvious. For whatever reason, this is the safest place to be right now. We will not help solve the problem any faster by making ridiculous assumptions or spreading unverified gossip. Go to your dormitories immediately and remain calm. If anyone gives me reason to send for Professor McGonagall, I can assure you that the student responsible will be punished to the fullest extent possible!" 

The students looked sheepishly at one another before slowly heading to their rooms. Several voices muttered words that sounded vaguely like, "this stinks" and "unfair" on the way up the winding stairs. 

Seamus Finnigan, followed by Harry and Ron, moved next to Hermione with a worried look in his searching eyes. He spoke more calmly than he looked. "My sister Lizzy and Emma Bell are missing. The other first years said that the girls left dinner soon after they arrived to retrieve Emma's pet ferret from their History of Magic classroom." 

First years were the least experienced, and therefore were in the most danger from whatever was threatening Hogwarts. The sooner the girls were found and brought back to the common room, the better. 

"Right then, I'll be back." Turning to leave, Hermione added, "Watch the portrait hole, and make sure no one, visible or otherwise, attempts to leave the area." Her statement was directed at Seamus, but she raised her eyebrows at Harry and Ron before starting off. 

Ron plainly did not want her to go when he coaxed, "Why don't you just send Nearly Headless Nick to fetch the girls?" 

"I'll only be gone ten minutes at the most." Remembering the black apparition at dinner she continued, "Besides, we might very well need to send Sir Nicholas for help in case anything strange happens." With that settled, Hermione headed to Professor Binn's classroom. 

~~~***~~~ 

A group of hooded monks, from a large painting that hung ceiling to floor, gave Hermione ominous glares as she walked quickly through the deserted corridors. 

She felt distinctly uncomfortable. 

The hallways were never this empty and quiet so early in the evening. The only sounds she heard were the gentle swishing of her robes and the light clicking her shoes made whenever they came in contact with the stone floor. Torches on the walls dimly lit the halls creating shadows that danced and played with the senses. 

She rounded the corner to make her way down to the center staircase when she became aware that something of definite substance moved on the wall next to her. A strange tingle ran through her body, as she jumped back a bit facing the wall. Her eyes ran searchingly up and down the area on the wall where the movement had occurred. She soon realized that a strange creature--if it was indeed alive--was gliding like a centipede up the side of the wall. 

The first thought that entered Hermione's mind was that the thing resembled a small glass brain. A network of tendrils intertwined and moved among themselves becoming infinitely changeable. As it moved up the wall, its translucent skin mimicked the stone wall and tapestry, camouflaging its existence. As it disappeared from sight, Hermione became very aware that she had certainly never read or heard of anything similar to this thing. 

From behind her, black robes approached silently. 

"Miss Granger" Snape commanded in a low, but dangerous voice, "Explain your presence." 

Hermione started with a small cry at his sudden appearance. Her attention, now focused up at the very cold glare of her professor, allowed a tiny pin-sized void to grow larger, unnoticed within the shadows of the tapestry. 

"You have been crossing lines for far too long, certainly a Head Girl..." 

"There was something here sir," Hermione gasped, finally gathering her wits, "I'm not sure what it was, but... 

"Where precisely?" Snape's voice was barely audible as he drew closer eyeing the wall; his wand pointed out defensively. 

The concave edges of this dark void did not readily collapse upon themselves as they had in the Great Hall. Rather, the edges grew, instantaneously lunging forward and engulfing the student and teacher in blackened emptiness. 

Hermione screamed, but the sound that came forth was a muffled whine. She felt like she was falling, tumbling, being pushed and pulled until her feet unexpectedly came in contact with the floor. Her legs buckled under her causing her to fall forward and her head to slam against something hard. 


	2. A Paradox

  
  


Dark Land 

Chapter 2: A Paradox 

Had Hermione watched her Potions Master's concerned looks while examining her unconscious body in the darkened corridor or been aware of the careful manner in which he lifted her body, moving her swiftly on a conjured stretcher to the infirmary, she would have felt safe in his care. She was oblivious to these things however, so that when she awoke, confusion and fear were her companions. 

Hermione awoke with a jerk, lifting herself up on her elbows. Sharp, stabbing pains ran through her head, and her sudden movements made her quite nauseous. A dark figure stepped forward, and Hermione moved her legs to the side of the bed to flee. Nausea overwhelmed her and she hunched forth trying to avoid vomiting. 

"Stay still, and lay back down, Miss Granger, unless you wish to end up sprawled on the floor again," a voice, Hermione recognized as her Potion Masters, ordered. 

Hermione sat back on one elbow, her other hand rose to the large bump on her forehead. "Ugh, what happened?" 

"I was hoping you might be able to help me determine that." 

As Snape came round to her side, she wondered at the deliberately slow and stiff manner in which he moved. 

Ignoring his reply, she simply stated, "You were hurt as well." 

"I assure you, we shall both survive. I healed our injuries as best I could, however, without a trained mediwitch, certain aches are inevitable, "he said dryly. Whatever had happened, Hermione could not discern from his expressionless face. 

"Where is Madam Pomfrey?" 

"Her presence is not the highest priority at the moment. Rather," He paused, "the problem we should concern ourselves with is where we are." 

Hermione stared up at him, confusion growing on her face. None of this made sense, and thinking about it was making the pounding in her head increase. 

Snape waved her look away, "You are wasting my time Miss Granger, tell me now. What do you remember?" 

Hermione relayed the events as clearly and concisely as possible readily wishing to end their conversation and close her eyes. When she finished, her head felt ready to explode and dizziness overwhelmed her. She settled back down on the pillow, and slipped again into unconsciousness. 

~~~***~~~ 

When Hermione awoke, her head still pounded, but she no longer felt dizzy and sick. 

She slowly turned to look around the dimly lit room and found Snape sitting next to her bed watching her actions carefully. 

"I see you have decided to grace us with your presence once again, Miss Granger." His voice was familiarly silky, though lacking the sharp edge Hermione would have expected. 

He took a pitcher from the bedside table and poured Hermione a glass of water. Accepting the glass from him, Hermione took several mouthfuls of water before weakly asking, "How long have I been unconscious?" 

"According to my watch, you have been in the infirmary for twelve hours." 

"Twelve hours?" Hermione was confused, "but, but that's impossible." 

"Are you questioning my ability to track time?" He was baiting her to continue. 

"No, it's just, well we couldn't have been here for twelve hours," she looked resolutely at her professor, "because it should be morning, which," she motioned towards the darkened window, "it is not." 

"True, it should be light out, however I have found that much is not as it should be." 

She returned her glass to the nightstand and waited for him to continue. 

Placing his forearms on top of his slightly spread thighs, he leaned forward from his chair, "While I have not had the opportunity to search the castle, I have been unable to contact anyone. Furthermore, the house-elves have not answered my calls." 

This bit of information deeply concerned Hermione. She knew, from an unsuccessful attempt to liberate the house-elves from their slavish bonds, that they would rather be beaten over their heads with large mallets than ignore a request for their service. 

Snape sat back in his chair staring into Hermione's eyes, "I conclude, therefore, that we are alone." 

"What do you think happened to everyone?" 

"I'm not sure." Snape stated firmly 

He paused slightly letting out a breath. With renewed impatience he continued, "Enough with the questions, if you feel well enough to walk, I would like to explore the castle." 

With that, Snape held out his hand to help Hermione up. She felt slightly uneasy on her feet, but slowly made to follow. 

Before they had even left the infirmary to begin their exploration of the castle, Hermione knew walking was a mistake. While the dizziness and nausea had subsided, she still felt very weak as if she might collapse. By the time they reached the doorway, Hermione had to lean on the frame for support bowing her head on her raised arm. 

"Maybe you should go alone, I don't think I'm quite up to moving around much yet." 

Snape looked thoughtfully at her. "That would be unwise, however, the sooner we know the facts, the sooner we can begin dealing with their consequences." He turned back walking into Madam Pomfrey's private stores. He soon returned holding out two small vials. "Drink these," he commanded. 

Hermione took the first vial which contained a cloudy white liquid. The potion sent chills running down her body from her throat to her toes, then back up her spine to her head. Very soon, though, the pounding in her head subsided. 

The second vial contained a thicker red substance which Hermione recognized as Robustus Restorative Draft. It tasted vile, but she knew it would help build her strength back up. After a few minutes she felt well enough to proceed. 

~~~***~~~ 

The corridor was pitch black. Snape walked from torch to torch lighting them as they made their way. They walked in mutual silence through the long hallways. Hermione made no attempt to begin a conversation. She sensed that Snape was not one for small talk, and she preferred silence to what she suspected might come from Snape's sharp tongue were he to speak. 

Hermione had never been in the castle when it was completely dark and deserted before, but there they were wandering corridor after corridor finding no signs of life. They made their way up to the seventh floor to check on the Ravenclaw Rooms first, since they were the closest to the infirmary and the most probable place to find students. Snape pushed open the portrait of a small blonde girl holding a bouquet of daisies. Hermione didn't listen to what he said; she was too focused on her surroundings. 

They were still at Hogwarts, but it wasn't Hogwarts. This place was dreary and oppressive. Something in the atmosphere, the way the tapestries and rugs now clung to the walls and floors hiding the bleak, grey stones' deepest secrets, the way the pictures looked... 

"The pictures, they aren't moving!" Hermione gasped, an uneasiness pervading her body. 

"Yes, it would appear they are not. Passwords are not used here either." Snape stated as he walked through the portrait hole. 

Hermione found that the common room was everything noble and wise that stood for Ravenclaw. The rugs that sprawled on the floor were decorated with intricate blue and bronze designs. Tapestries depicting heroic scenes with birds and women hung against the wall. The portraits, intermittently placed along the wall, held famous Ravenclaw witches and wizards who stared, frozen, into space. The dormitories upstairs held four-poster beds that were very similar to her own, but in deep blue and bronze. Hermione thought that these rooms were everything that Gryffindor's were, though with a definite Ravenclaw flare. 

What Hermione did not find were the students who occupied the house. 

She walked to the tall thin common room window and gazed at the darkened landscape. The moon's light allowed her to see the outlines of trees and bushes that did not sway or rustle. The sheer stillness of the night brought her thoughts to her friends and family. How long would it be before she would see them again? It had been less than a day and already she longed to be with them. 

Snape had been reasonably tolerable thus far, but he was definitely not someone with whom Hermione would want to spend an extended period of time. His actions towards her during class proved that he felt the same way. 

Most of the other Hogwarts professors, with the notable exception of Professor Trelawney, enjoyed and fostered Hermione's intelligence, work ethic, and need to please. Snape on the other hand found these qualities unbearable. He berated her on a regular basis for being a "know it all" and reprimanded her when she tried to help less adept students, like Neville Longbottom. 

Hermione, disheartened by her thoughts, felt the need to leave the area. 

"Why don't we check on the Owlery next?" Turning her head towards Snape, she continued, "It's close, and maybe whatever happened to the others did not affect the animals." 

Snape looked doubtful, but nodded to proceed. 

The Owlery, to no one's surprise, was barren. Oh, there were cages and feathers, and small troughs filled with water and food, but no bird could be found. 

"Well, at least we can feel somewhat relieved that we should be able to find food to eat," Feeling a distant ache in her stomach she added, " which would be wonderful right now. I haven't eaten since yesterday." 

Snape agreed, rationalizing that food would help Hermione maintain her strength, and the pair headed for the kitchens. 

~~~***~~~ 

While Hermione waited for the tea to brew, she watched Snape as he prepared some sandwiches. He appeared to be working on autopilot. She hadn't noticed how haggard and worn out he looked. She realized he probably hadn't slept since their arrival. 

"We need to eat as quickly as possible. I would like to stop by my rooms to gather some things; then we should head to the library, "Snape directed as he set a plate with a turkey and Swiss sandwich on the table in front of Hermione. 

Hermione felt it best not to question her obviously exhausted Potions Master. He seemed to be the only other living soul around, and furthermore, he seemed to have some idea what had happened to them, though he was reluctant to share his theories at the moment. 

The pair soon left the kitchens making their way north down the long Hogwarts corridors to the dungeons. 

They entered his private rooms through an archway in Snape's office that Hermione didn't recognize from previous visits. 

"None of the wards appear to be working." He said as he made his way under the medieval archway. 

Snape's private rooms were divided into two large sections. The first area was a comfortable sitting room decorated with dark elegant furniture and deep solid woods. Two large brown leather chairs faced the fireplace. Beyond the chairs, a dark wood desk faced the wall. Scrolls and opened books were spread out in no particular order on the desk top. All of these things looked comfortable and inviting, but the thing that caught Hermione's attention was the wall. Though not really a wall, but rather one large bookcase that ran from front to back, and floor to ceiling filled with the most eclectic assortment of books Hermione had ever seen. 

Snape's bedroom was spacious with a large bed in one corner. The wall of books continued to this room. On the far corner was a marble floor bathroom, and to her left was another stone archway leading to some descending stairs. 

Hermione made her way toward the bookshelf. The number of books Snape had acquired was nothing to the variety. Practically every Wizarding subject was included on the shelves, Ancient Runes to Advanced Arithmancy: filling patterns in the void; as well as, Muggle texts ranging from the advanced Extended Fundamentals of Physics to the classic literary works of Edgar Allen Poe and Mary Shelley. 

Snape's rooms were everything Hermione thought a home should be, but was surprised to see here. 

After choosing five or six books from his shelves, they headed up to the library. The two sat in silence for several hours, Hermione still reluctant to ask too many questions, though perusing the books laid out in front of her, she realized Snape was developing a theory, and hopefully a plan. 

Hermione looked over to Snape whose concentration was directed solely on several books that were spread out in front of him as if reading all at once. His eyes had become glossed over and red, while dark circles had formed under his eyes. He looked terrible. 

Hermione finally decided to speak, "Sir, you know what has happened don't you?" 

"I have a strong idea. Yes." He paused as if to gather his thoughts and began explaining as he did when instructing a class. 

"Our world, our universe, is comprised of four dimensions. Three which we can see; up-down, left-right, and forward-backward; and a fourth known as time. These constants can be manipulated, bent and folded; much like you can bend and fold a piece of paper; through the use of large amounts of energy. Wizards can manipulate space using strong magical items such as portkeys, as can the natural world through such forces as gravity. That is why Disapparating is a difficult skill. It takes intense focus and concentration, which most younger wizards and far too many older ones do not possess." He paused wearily to look at her. 

"Other theories state that there are many, different universes spread throughout a great expanse, as well as, partial universes which mimic ours, though they are incomplete. Being as such, they cling to our universe, much like iron filings to a magnet, providing the incomplete worlds with some stability. This theory has of course never been proven, since the power needed to cause a rip in the fabric of our universe would be enormous." 

"So you think that a rip has occurred," Hermione surmised. 

"Yes, I believe that we have been banished to an incomplete universe. One in which time does not exist. Everything in this world is trapped in the moment that we came through." 

Snape leaned forward on the table rubbing his eyes. "Knowing what has happened to us is really useless in the overall scheme, unless we can develop some way of recreating the portkey that brought us here." 

They continued their discussion, Snape's knowledge extended far beyond potion brewing. Hermione was fascinated. After a while though, Snape looked as if he might collapse on the spot. 

"You look as if you haven't slept, sir," Hermione stated with concern. 

"It was best that one of us remained awake, in case this universe held hidden dangers," Snape replied flatly. 

He did little to argue when Hermione insisted that his thought processes would be clearer after a few hours of sleep. She sat at a table inspecting the various physics books while Snape sprawled out on a couch in the library to sleep." 


	3. The Spiral

  
  


Dark Land 

Chapter 3: The Spiral 

Hermione looked up from a particularly large book that she was reading to find her professor peacefully laying on his side on the nearby couch. His breathing was deep and regular. In this relaxed state Hermione noted that many of his harsh lines disappeared giving him a younger, more pleasant appearance. The thought occurred to her that if he didn't scowl so much, he wouldn't be completely offensive. To own the truth, he had been rather kind to her when she awoke. He hadn't yelled or blamed her in anyway for their situation. 

Yet, this was Snape. The same professor who found amusement in intimidating and degrading his students. She doubted whether his reasonable behavior would continue much longer. 

She shook the unpleasant thought from her mind and looked back at her book, it was amazing. Hermione was interested in knowledge of all sorts, and she hadn't had the opportunity to explore Muggle science in depth. She was just finishing a piece on the String Theory and its relationship to space-time geometry. With a little work, many of the ideas Muggle physicists developed could be adapted to the magical principles of Arithmancy and Transfiguration. 

After what seemed a short time, Snape woke up, and suggested they eat before continuing. 

On route to the kitchens, it struck Hermione how odd it was not to have a past or future, to be trapped in the now. What meal time was it in "now"? Mentioning these philosophical thoughts to Snape, she was informed that, by his watch, it was early evening, so a dinner would be best. He motioned for her to sit, while she watched him wander through the kitchen. 

"The food should remain fresh for as long as we need it. I would assume things do not rot in a timeless world," Snape said as he hunted through the many cabinets. 

Hermione had some practice preparing and cooking food in the Muggle world, but she doubted if Snape had ever been without a house-elf. 

As Snape placed a large pot on the stove and began adding ingredients, she was pleasantly surprised to find that he did know something about cooking. Snape's long fingers worked the food meticulously, easily slicing the meat and vegetables. He gently stirred the mixture, smelling and eyeing its progress. Hermione had watched him work over a cauldron making potions in much the same way. Within a half hour, a chicken breast covered in a thick sauce with mushrooms, peppers, and olives was placed in front of her. 

"It smells delicious," she responded enthusiastically. 

Snape acknowledged her with an expressionless nod, allowing the room to fall into uncomfortable silence. A significant amount of time lapsed without a word spoken. Midway through the meal however, the professor spoke. 

"Will you describe for me, once more, everything that you remember," Snape asked suddenly while impaling an olive with his fork. 

Hermione described the black apparition she saw in the Great Hall, as well as the creature that moved against the corridor wall just before they were attacked. 

"...and it had tendrils or tube like parts that were translucent, as if made from some sort of glass or gem, but the glass was continuously changing. The parts entangled into one another moving constantly, like a pile of worms twisting around." Hermione twisted her fingers demonstrating as she spoke. 

When she finished, Snape stared thoughtfully at his plate. 

"Professor, do you think that creature had anything to do with our current situation?" Hermione asked breaking the silence. 

"I believe it had everything to do with our situation, though I think it was probably more of an artifact than an actual living thing. A powerful portkey of sorts would need to be used to cause a dimensional rip, but the key would be most effective if it could open many rips, sending as many victims to incomplete worlds as possible. In that case, the object would need to be mobile. Inanimate objects can be given the ability to move, which was probably what was done, making it appear living. The thing you saw moving about, Miss Granger, probably created the tear which drew us into this world." 

After a short pause Snape continued, "The object that was used to create the portkey might be relevant for determining how to replicate one to send us back. I would like to find out what was used. A sketch of what it looked like would be helpful." 

Hermione nodded, "I'll draw one out when we return to the library." 

Snape looked at her, "You realize that we are very lucky to be alive. If we had been transported to a universe that was lacking one of the other dimensions, such as up and down, we would have died instantly." 

The rest of the meal was eaten in silent contemplation. 

~~~***~~~ 

And so their search for the portkey home began. Hermione and Snape researched book after book filled with illustrations and descriptions of mystical gems, relics, and artifacts. 

Nothing seemed to remotely match the item they were looking for. 

After several hours of searching the library's books without success, Hermione's concentration was broken by the realization that Snape was standing behind her. He suggested they head to his rooms, which held further books that could be helpful. Hermione readily agreed thinking the walk would be nice after sitting for such a long time. Each one carried a handful of books from the library with them, as well as the sketch Hermione had drawn, and made their way to the dungeons. 

Once there, Snape quickly found several books which looked promising, and excused himself to the bathroom to freshen up and change clothes. 

While alone, Hermione found her eyes wandering around the room contemplating what her professor was really like. This room was not at all what she expected; not cold and sparse at all, but warm and comfortable with a clean lived in look. 

When he returned, he was visibly more relaxed. He had just washed, but Snape's hair looked as limp and grungy as ever. After some consideration, Hermione felt that his hair was probably naturally shiny, not greasy at all. 

"We've been going about this wrong," Snape began, "If the object you saw was changeable, it wouldn't necessarily look the same when in its inactive form. We should concentrate on any artifact that has rope like arms and is made of translucent material. It would probably be something ancient, predating wand magic." 

He opened a book, scanning its contents. Without lifting his eyes from its pages, added, "Make a list of anything remotely possible. We can then go back and compare each artifact, so that we may determine the most probable one." 

After some time, exhaustion began to creep up on Hermione. The letters on the pages began to wobble and sway and move about, so that Hermione could no longer make sense of what she was reading. 

Noticing Hermione's eyes slowly blinking with effort, Snape suggested, "There is a guest bedroom across from here. I believe that we are safe from attack, but it would be better if we were near each other, just in case. We can bring your things down from Gryffindor Tower, so you can bath and change clothes." 

The dungeon guest room was spacious and well furnished. To Hermione's relief, it was windowless. She would not have to view the endless still night from here. She was dirty and exhausted from the past days' events. She decided her condition called for a soothing bath. 

Hermione let the warm water blanket her, as she laid her head back and closed her eyes relaxing. The water gently soothed and guided Hermione into the dream world. 

She was standing by the edge of a small lake. The strong night wind blew her hair and nightgown wildly around, gently spraying her with water from the lake. Her reflection stood long and swaying in the ripples of the water. As she watched her image, her hair blowing and dancing in the wind, a soft warm mouth gently touched her cold, exposed neck. She drew a deep breath in and bent her head forward closing her eyes. Strong warm arms crossed around her waist, long fingers caressing her sides. A tall slender body pressed against her. She turned around and... 

Hermione opened her eyes, slowly becoming aware of her surroundings. The bath had certainly relaxed her; and she found while toweling herself off that she did not have the energy or motivation to use a drying spell on her hair before climbing into bed and a deep peaceful sleep. 

When Hermione awoke, she pulled her still damp hair back with a clip, brushed her teeth, dressed and made her way across the corridor to Snape. When she entered, Snape was already scouring through an ancient, well worn tome which contained pictures of relics and runes. 

"I think I found what was used for the portkey." The picture he pointed at looked like a poor candidate. 

Ignoring Hermione's skeptical expression, he continued, "The portkey was probably created using a piece from the Triple Spiral of Life. The relic was used in ancient Celtic ceremonies. Each spiral represented a part of life: Birth, Marriage, and Death. It was thought to contain powers that guided the user through the transitions of life. It was used ceremonially until 90 A.D. when it was broken into three sections and its usefulness was thought lost." 

"It looks nothing like what I saw," Hermione said pointing to the clean organized spirals that resembled the Milky Way. 

"You must read more carefully, Miss Granger, it only appears as a spiral when it is inactive. During the actual ceremonies, the spirals would unwind and move about erratically." 

"What is particularly fortunate is that because it was broken into pieces, finding a remnant to test on will be possible." 

"Where does it say the pieces are located?" Hermione asked while picking up the book to inspect. 

"Well, one is on display at the Boston Museum, a second is, or I should say "was" in the Malfoy private collection, the third is currently held at St. Fin Barre's Cathedral in Ireland. Some saint wore it as a pendant around his neck, and the Church has decided to display it as a Holy Artifact. I believe that this is the best place to start looking for the item." 

Snape stood up, and grabbing his cloak continued, "We should leave as soon as possible. We will travel by broomstick, so the flight will take an hour or so, depending on how slowly you travel." 

"Broomstick?" Hermione was mortified at the thought, "Surely there is a better way to go than that." 

"Broomstick is the safest way. I do not trust this universe, and therefore would rather not attempt to Apparate or travel by Floo powder; we could become lost or worse. Do you have a problem with flying?" He asked, raising his eyebrows suspiciously. 

"I don't have a problem, as such. I can fly, just not as fast or far as you would probably like." Gathering her thoughts, Hermione continued, "I have never gotten used to the concept of sitting on a thin piece of wood zipping here and there, yet not falling off. It's rather unnerving." 

Snape looked almost pleased with her confession and mocked, "Finally, Miss Granger, something that you cannot show off about." 

After some discussion, and apprehension on both sides, it was decided that Hermione would fly as Snape's passenger. 

And so, not an hour after Hermione woke up did she find herself standing outside next to Professor Snape, readying herself for the flight ahead. 

She was not happy. 

The air outside was thick and oppressive. The trees and clouds hung in silent stillness. These ominous things made Hermione even more hesitant about going anywhere; but as she considered her options, she knew she did not want to be alone. 

Snape called the broom up and motioned for Hermione to get on. He sat directly behind her, easily towering over her head to steer. Noticing Hermione's unease, Snape assured her that she was the most ridiculous creature and was in no way in danger of falling. Seeing that this gave her little comfort, he sighed and wrapped one arm around her waist to help her balance. The flight to Ireland was a blur. Snape was a very capable flyer, but the speeds at which he went were terrifying. Hermione was quite glad that no wind existed in this timeless universe, or else she was sure she would have been blown off. 

Snape slowed the broomstick as they approached the cathedral. The church had been built from grey stones during the Victorian Era and reflected the grandeur and attention to detail of that time. Steep pointed towers surrounded the main structure which stretched to the heavens. A smaller dome shaped entrance laid in front. 

Hermione was very pleased to be safely on solid ground. 

As they entered the church, Hermione was struck by the beauty of the place and gaped in awe at the magnificent stained glass windows and painted ceilings. Snape did not seem to notice any such beauty and moved quickly down the aisle to the back of the church where he believed the relic would be held. 

The church was dimly lit by candles, so that their shadows echoed on the walls in long distorted images. A large organ with pipes stretching to the ceiling sat near the front of the church. The pews were made of dark wood and ran from each end of the church stopping just short of the middle to form a small aisle. Along the walls of the church were huge ornate wood carvings depicting the Stations of the Cross. Hermione stopped near one, entranced by its intricacy and sadness. 

She was suddenly shocked out of her musings by a loud thump. Moving at a fast trot, she made her way to the area of the church from which the sound had emanated. 

She entered the Sacristy behind the altar, to find Snape looking very frustrated as he knelt on the ground trying to reach around a huge ornamental tabernacle that had apparently fallen. 

"What happened?" Hermione asked as she breathlessly approached Snape. 

"The spiral was embedded in the pillar. I was trying to release it," he glare coldly at the fallen box and column, motioning with his hand in frustration, "when I inadvertently knocked the whole thing over." 

"Why don't you just levitate it back up?" Hermione genuinely wondered. 

Through clenched teeth Snape growled, "I would obviously do that Miss Granger, except my wand fell out of my hand and wedged between the column and the wall when it collapsed." He stared at her impatiently. Hermione could tell that Snape was asking for her help, though the thought of needing it was very difficult for him. 

Hermione couldn't help but smile slightly at the sight of her professor's predicament. 

"Miss Granger, are you going to help me, or are you just going to go on goggling like a Worble bat?" 

Hermione should have been slightly angry at that chide, but the sheer amusement of the whole thing overpowered his remark. Holding back a smirk, Hermione levitated the stone, leaning it against the far wall. 

Luckily, Snape's wand was recovered unharmed. The clear gem-like spiral was then easily removed with a loosening spell. 

Having procured the spiral, they wasted no time before heading back to Hogwarts. 

The trip back to Hogwarts was not nearly as bad as the flight there. Hermione felt a bit safer with Snape at the controls now that they had successfully accomplished their mission. They seemed to be moving more slowly, though she reasoned that she may have just become accustomed to the speed. Snape's arm was wrapped securely around her waist, which on the ride there had felt uncomfortably close, was now reassuring. She felt enclosed and balanced. Her fears subsiding, she could now focus on her surroundings. The night air was not cold, though she could feel warmth permeating from the arm around her and the body behind her. The only sounds she could hear were Snape's regular breaths as they gently tickled the top of her hair. 

~~~***~~~ 

Once back at Hogwarts, the pair began their experiments to draw enough energy from the spiral, so that when turned into a portkey, it would send them home. 

"The ancient rituals used with the spiral are vague, but I believe that the actual operation is quite simple. In the past, the user would go through a series of meditative exercises that helped him to focus his magic at the spiral; this was before wand use, so we should have an easier time. The rituals and meditative processes are probably pointless now. The spiral should respond to our focused wand magic." 

And so it did. The arms came to life and changed from the flat organized galaxy to a mass of tendrils turning on themselves. Hermione could feel the magic the ball gave off as it tingled through her body, leaving her breathless. 

"Now all we must do is harness enough magic from it to create an inter-dimensional rip," Snape declared. 

This optimism was a bit precipitous however. The work did not go as smoothly as either one had hoped. They were able to generate some power. That combined with the magical energy normally instilled into a portkey was significant, but not nearly enough to create the sort of rip that they needed to leave. 

For the first few weeks, Hermione lived only for her work. She was determined to tackle this problem head on, and her inexperience with failure made her sure that this would be another obstacle easily overcome. Soon though, the monotony of work began to take its toll even on one so dedicated and optimistic as she. Hermione found her concentration lacking and had to strain to sit still. 

"Would you stop fidgeting," Snape looked sharply at her, apparently annoyed. 

Hermione flung out of her chair and began pacing, "I'm sorry. I'm a bit stir crazy as of late." 

Snape closed his book putting it to the side. He leaned back, rubbed his temples and sighed saying, "Maybe a walk would do us both some good." With that he moved to the door and stood looking at Hermione impatiently, "Well." 

Snape took her through tunnels and corridors of the dungeons that Hermione never knew existed. If he were to leave her alone, she would surely be lost to wander aimlessly for days on end, hopeless to finding her way back. 

Snape related information about the castle to Hermione with ease, as they toured its underbelly, "Hogwarts has always been a safe haven of sorts throughout its history. During the worst of the goblin rebellions in 1635, many Wizarding families took refuge here. Extra rooms were created to accommodate the influx of people, but there is little use for them now and so most of the rooms have been generally forgotten about." 

Snape paused at one door, and sneered with disdain, "This unfortunately is the Cerinus Room. I think Odin the Odd commissioned its design during his short term as headmaster in the 1700's." 

Upon entering the room, Hermione's eyes hurt. The walls, ceiling, tapestries, furniture, and carpets were all a bright canary yellow. It was, without a doubt, the most gaudy thing she had ever seen. 

"Oh, it's absolutely atrocious," Hermione croaked laughing in disgust. 

Their walk had lifted Hermione's spirits considerably and wishing to continue her tour of Hogwarts asked, "Do you know the rest of the castle as well as you know the dungeons." 

"Hardly," Snape replied, "but I am familiar with much of the castle." 

"Would you take me round to other parts?" Hermione asked eagerly. 

"Perhaps," he paused to look at her, "some other time. We should get back to our research." 

Hermione was not at all disappointed by his words. She would have something to look forward to when she next became discouraged. 


	4. Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow

  
  


Dark Land 

Chapter 4: Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow 

"Consider the consequences, Miss Granger, before you ask again," a low voice warned. 

Hermione was stopped short, before she even opened her mouth. 

"Mmph… Just wait until you need something from me. See how helpful I am," Hermione muttered under her breath. 

As the weeks turned into months, Hermione couldn't help but feel uneasy and restless. She had been checking off the days on a small wall calendar in Snape's room, determined to sleep at "night" and work during the "day". This sense of order gave her some comfort. Recently though, she had begun organizing her daily routine down to the hour. She needed to maintain a sense of normality to keep her wits. 

Snape's pocket watch was the only clock that worked in the whole of Hogwarts, so Hermione found herself relying on him to tell her the time. When he did not readily do so to her satisfaction, she would ask. 

Snape, glaring at her, stood up and took out his wand. 

Hermione's eyes widened and her body tensed. She had pushed him too far. Was he going to Curse her? 

To Hermione's relief, he took out his pocket watch, and saying the Engorgio Charm, enlarged it to the size of a bicycle tire. 

"If you bother me like this again, I will be forced to use an Unforgivable on you, "Snape said as he hung the large clock on the wall above his desk. 

"Thank you," Hermione said meekly. 

Snape nodded, "We should return to the lab, I believe the new solution will be ready to test shortly." 

Hermione made to follow her professor through the archway in his bedroom, down to his private work room. 

They were now spending more and more time in his potions laboratory. Snape knew of several things that could enhance the spiral's energy output; and since potions were his forte, the two were taking that route. Working over a cauldron was not nearly as horrible as Hermione had feared. Potion brewing required her complete concentration. One mistake, regardless of how small, could ruin a full day's work. She enjoyed the challenge, and it helped to keep her from dwelling on her lost life and friends. 

"Fill this," Snape directed as he handed her an empty vial. 

He picked up the spiral and placed it on the table next to Hermione. She watched as he took the vial, now containing the red Asphodel Potion and placed a few drops on the spiral. 

The relic sprang to life, its arms twisting as a familiar warm surge ran through her body. 

"Discirious" Snape said while directing his wand at the spiral. 

The relic began to glow a dim green. 

Damn, Hermione thought, this solution had even worse results than the last three. 

If Snape was disappointed by the outcome, it did not show on his face. Hermione sighed and began taking notes related to the spiral's reactions and energy output. 

"I believe we should move on to Erumpent Fluid Enhancement potions," Snape said as he picked up the cauldron to dispose of the useless potion. 

They had spent over a month working with a group of potions that used Asphodel as their catalyst. Each one had failed, though some worse than others. Hermione often wondered at the logic of this. Asphodel based potions, regardless of the combination of ingredients, were definitely not producing the intended results. 

She finally resolved to ask, "Why don't we try a variety of potions, rather than wasting our time with similar ones that are obviously doomed to fail?" 

"We are learning a great deal about what type of potion may work from each failure, Miss Granger. If we randomly tested potions without a clear focus, or without precisely analyzing why each combination failed and to what extent, we could very well miss something important for the potion that will send us home. I should have warned you that this would be an agonizingly slow process, but we will most likely have to design an original potion that will interact with the very unusual properties the spiral exhibits while it is in its portkey form." Snape paused, "There are too many variables to test without order." 

Seeing the disappointment on Hermione's face, Snape said, "Perhaps in a bit, we should take a break. I believe I know a portion of the castle that you will appreciate." 

Hermione's interest was peaked. 

Most "evenings" were spent analyzing the data from their experiments. However this night, Snape took Hermione to the far Southwest corner of the castle, up through the Astronomy Tower. 

What was he doing? Hermione was definitely not interested in looking at the unnatural sky. The stars didn't even twinkle. She doubted that Snape would fancy star gazing much either. 

They made their way up a long, winding staircase to the third floor. 

Snape stopped in front of a plain brown door, "Most of the faculty do not live within the castle. Occasionally however, a married professor will stay with his family. This room is for the younger children." 

As they entered the room he added, "Fortunately, the Play Room keeps the children far from the dungeons." 

The large circular room was nice, but Hermione could see nothing exceptional in it. A playhouse with a small red slide sat in the center of the room. Toys and books were lined intermittently along the wall. Several large squishy chairs designed for the parents sat in one corner. The wall was painted with a colorful mural depicting a park on a summer day with trees and a small pond. A dog was frozen in midair, caught jumping after a squirrel that was up in a tree. " 

"You brought me up here to play with toys, did you?" Hermione asked facetiously. 

"Wait here," he said with a glimmer in his eye as he walked to the wall. With a few magical words, the scenery on the wall came to life, and Hermione had a summer day surround her. 

This easily became Hermione's favorite room. 

~~~***~~~~ 

"Be careful Miss Granger!" Snape spat. 

Hermione was frustrated and edgy. 

Erumpent Fluid was an extremely volatile catalyst. If the substance was used incorrectly, a dangerous reaction could occur. This knowledge was stressful enough. Compiled with Snape's bad attitude, Hermione felt ready to crack. 

Snape was in one of the worst moods Hermione had ever seen him, certainly the worst since their arrival to this world. He was growling and snarling, griping at the smallest things. 

"Do not set the knotgrass so close to the potion, unless you wish us both dead." He balled his hands into fists so tight, his knuckles turned white. 

"You are stirring the mixture too roughly. Here let me do it." He harshly grabbed the stirring rod out of her hand and grumbled something under his breath that Hermione couldn't make out, but looked suspiciously like cursing. 

"You're not in the best of moods today," Hermione began cautiously. "Is..." 

"Thank you, for your brilliant observation," he said cutting her off snappishly. 

"I know stating the obvious is hardly helpful." She said in a hurt voice. 

"It is the idiot's way to stupid conversation." He replied dryly 

Hermione became resolved not to silently take his vicious remarks any longer. To hell if she had to work with him, if things got bad enough she would seclude herself in the library. Hogwarts was a big place. 

"You self-important, arrogant..." Hermione couldn't hold back a disdainful laugh. 

Snape held up a hand for her to stop. He breathed in deeply before continuing, "You know very well you are not an idiot." He paused, "I merely meant that people often state something obvious to start idle chit-chat, which I loathe." 

He sighed and added quickly, "Miss Granger, you are easily one of the brightest students I have ever taught." 

Hermione looked up at him feeling more than a little astonished. A tiny smile appeared on Snape's mouth, "If you ever mention that to anyone, I know several Balding Spells that are effective enough so that you will never have to worry about your bushy hair again." 

Hermione made to argue, but Snape stopped her making his fingers mimic a scissors, a smirk appearing on his face. 

"Let's stop for now." He continued, "I had trouble sleeping last night, so I believe it would be best for both of us if I took a nap" 

With that, he stood up and walked to his bedroom to sleep. 

The next few weeks went much better. The work was both distracting and rather exciting. Each time they tried a new potion, Hermione hoped some small result would guide them to the mixture that would send them home. They brewed the potions during the day gathering very precise data. Then at night, they would sit in Snape's rooms and analyze the data, comparing the effectiveness of one ingredient to another; looking for combinations of ingredients that showed positive results and making note of those combinations which yielded little energy. 

Snape continued to make most of the meals. He really was a very good cook. During dinner, they generally talked about the progress they were making in the lab, or ate in silence. 

After nearly two months together, Hermione ventured to ask Snape how he learned to cook. It wasn't a deeply personal question, but she was wary nevertheless. 

His response was quite animated. 

Snape laughed out loud, "I'm not completely ignorant of the Muggle world, Miss Granger. I've had to survive more than once without magic or house-elves. Cooking was something that came easily to me." 

He continued, "Until we arrived here, I hadn't cooked for some time, but I have always enjoyed playing with the different tastes and textures foods create when they are blended together. It's an art form, like potion brewing, though in a more simplistic sense. With cooking you are always looking to create a rich depth of flavor. Some ingredients play well off of others, while one wrong ingredient can lead to a dish being ruined." 

"I must say, besides your annoyingly optimistic company, having a reason to cook is the most enjoyable part of our exile here." He smiled at her. 

Hermione had never witnessed her professor fall into conversation easily, and was a bit surprised by his ability to do so. 

These pleasant thoughts were interrupted, however, by a low thundering rumble. Something terrible had happened. 

They made their way down the silent corridors to the laboratory, to find it in shambles. The Erumpent Fluid was indeed volatile. The potion had exploded with such force, the tables and cabinets were now mere splinters burning on the ground, and many of the stones on the walls had cracked and blackened from the intense reaction. 

"How did this happen?" Hermione asked numbly. 

"I'm not sure, and I think it best if we discontinue our experiments until we determine the cause of this explosion. I certainly wouldn't have wanted to be in the room when this happened." 

The next few days were difficult for Hermione. They were making no real progress. They were just analyzing every detail of the failed experiment. 

Hermione lay awake staring at the ceiling. The stillness was unbearable. She normally had so much work to focus on that she fell into bed exhausted, asleep within minutes. The past few days, had not been that way allowing her mind time to wander and dwell on things lost. 

She thought of Crookshanks. He would normally be curled up heavy on her chest. His purring always helped her go to sleep. 

Ron and Harry really were her best friends. Ron could be a complete goof, but was very loyal and honest to a fault. Harry would bend over backwards to help a friend out. She assumed his lack of family support and love growing up made him strongly cling to friendships now. 

Harry had visited the Burrow for a week, near the end of the summer. The trio had been secretly helping Fred and George develop a new type of "candy," Lively Licorice. The licorice had a spell cast on it that turned it to slimy worms mid-bite. Ron tried to convince them to let him try it out on Ginny, but Harry and Hermione would have none of it. Hermione thought that Harry was developing stronger feelings than he let on for Ginny. 

At that time Hermione was sure that she could never live without them; that they were inseparable. Now she felt guilty thinking about how infrequently they crossed her mind. She couldn't allow herself to think of them. 

When she thought back to how much she had looked forward to having a room of her own for seventh year, she had to laugh at the irony of the situation. 

She tried to shake off this dread that was consuming her. Having a rough time of it, she thought of the one place that brought her some comfort and reminded her of summer days at the Burrow. 

She silently made her way to the Play Room. 

~~~***~~~ 

"I think I know what happened," Snape said looking up from the papers on his desk. "I believe we added the beetle dust a moment too soon. The dust then reacted viciously with the Erumpent Fluid, causing the explosion." He leaned back in his chair as he confessed, "I was worried that this universe's lack of time had somehow affected our potion. That doesn't seem to be the case. Luckily, when we begin a potion or spell, we create the existence of time for the object we are manipulating." 

"Are we able to continue, then?" Hermione asked. 

"Whenever you would like." 

And so, they continued their research with even more determination than before. Hermione found that the more time and energy she devoted to her work, the more content she became. 

Snape continued to take her for tours through Hogwarts. Even the Marauder's Map did not show every area of the castle. Hermione doubted if anyone knew all of the castle's secrets, though Snape knew a lot more than was published in Hogwarts, a History. 

They went through many rooms. They toured rooms that were small and large, grandly and sparsely decorated. There were rooms filled with mirrors and paintings, chairs and desks. There was a long, thin room covered in a deep red carpeting, which had suits of armor lined up from one end to the other; but her favorite room was still the Play Room. 

~~~***~~~ 

Hermione sat curled up on one of Snape's overstuffed leather chairs, a book in her lap. She glanced over at her Potions Master as he sat at his desk working through a pile of computations. Professor Snape really wasn't that awful once you got to know him. Oh, he was sarcastic and arrogant, but he was also intelligent, witty, and on occasion very funny. His humor was subtle and dry, so that while it took Hermione time to determine when he was joking, once she learned to read him, he was quite enjoyable to be around. 

Snape looked up from his work. "I think we have researched the effects of Erumpent Fluid as thoroughly as possible. What do you suggest we attempt next?" 

Hermione was gaining a better understanding of which ingredients would produce satisfactory results. 

"The Lacewing Flies don't appear to work at all. Mandrake juice with Ashwinder eggs might work well enough, if something more reactive were to act as a catalyst." 

She expressed these thoughts to Snape who said, "Very well done Miss Granger. I think our best alternative is a variation on the Portestas Solution. It is one of the strongest power enhancing potions in existence. I was reluctant to start with that because the solution is time consuming. The final batch must simmer for a full month before it is effective. I had hoped something simpler would produce the intended outcome." He paused and added with a serious tone, "I'm afraid that if this doesn't work, we may be at an impasse." 

It would be another full month, at least, until Hermione could return to her friends and school. This development sent her into temporary melancholy. 

Seeing her disappointment, Snape began reciting quietly in his silky voice, "Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow creeps in this petty pace from day to day" The words played into the air. 

"This is hardly a Shakespearean tragedy," Hermione replied. 

"Exactly Miss Granger." He smiled slightly at her. 


	5. Walks and Talks

  
  


Dark Land 

Chapter 5: Talks and Walks 

Hermione soon learned why Snape had been reluctant to begin their research with the Portestas Potion. It was both difficult and time consuming to brew. The potion required constant vigilance using many intricate steps and ingredients, especially during the first weeks of brewing. 

"I think it best if we alter the mixture slightly," Snape related as he looked at his notes. "The potion calls for powdered bicorn horn; however, our previous tests have shown that the spiral responds better to a combination of Ashwinder eggs and Mandrake juice. These alterations should not affect the potion's reaction time." 

Hermione carefully placed six gooey Ashwinder eggs in a mortar with the Mandrake juice. She mashed the substances into a thick paste and waited for Snape to signal that it was time to add it to the bubbling cauldron. 

"This should be a fascinating process. The Portestas Potion was developed to increase magical output in wands. The Ministry banned the solution in the 1970's after several people inadvertently caused explosions while attempting simple charms." Snape took the goopy paste from Hermione and carefully added a little at a time stirring in perfect figure eights. "I must confess that this is my first attempt at brewing this potion." 

"Did you never brew the potion because it is illegal or because you never needed it?" Hermione raised her eyebrows. 

"Both, I suppose." 

Hermione chuckled, "Wouldn't it be ironic if this potion works, and we return home only to be sent to Azkaban for its illegal use." 

Snape saw no humor in this thought however and glared down at her. His look did not create the reaction that he had expected; for Hermione, who had gotten quite used to her professor's glares, only smiled more broadly up at him. 

Realizing his defeat, Snape sighed and said, "This is all that needs to be added today. We must stir the mixture counter-clockwise every ten minutes for the next three hours. Then the potion will need to simmer for two days before we can begin the next step." 

Hermione didn't really need to stay in the lab. There was no real work for her to do, but she preferred his company to the complete silence she would face if she left. Snape did not complain when she made no attempt to leave, and so the two stayed in the laboratory talking until it was time for bed. 

~~~***~~~ 

Hermione had been away from the real world now for more than two months, and she found herself growing lonely to the point that she could not simply push the melancholy to the back of her mind. This feeling affected Hermione so much that she couldn't get to sleep when she went to bed. 

Hermione was restless. She tossed and turned and shifted from one side of the bed to the other, but to no avail. The ceiling began staring at her menacingly, and the walls began to close in around her. All these things ate at her heart until finally, she could take no more. 

She sat up. 

Hermione considered going to the Play Room, but thought the better of it. What she really wanted was conversation. The Play Room had a cheerful enough atmosphere, but nothing to divert her attention. 

She was always the first to bed, and Snape was always busily at work when she arrived in the morning. Hermione wondered if her Potions Master ever slept. She decided now was probably as good as any time to find out. 

She debated changing into her daily clothes, but needed desperately to leave, and her pajamas, though informal, were modest enough. She highly doubted it mattered anyway. 

Cautiously, she made her way across the silent corridor to Snape's rooms. If he was asleep, it would be best not to wake him for both their sakes. To Hermione's relief, Snape was sitting in one of the leather chairs by the fireplace reading. He looked up at her as she entered the room. 

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, Miss Granger?" 

Hermione smiled slightly. 

"Trouble sleeping," she simply stated. 

As she moved to sit at the chair next to Snape, Hermione asked, "Do you ever sleep?" 

"I generally need little sleep, but yes, sometimes." 

They paused for a few moments, while Hermione curled her legs under her and watched the flames in front of her jump and dance. 

"Doesn't the absolute loneliness of this place ever get to you?" She glanced up at him. 

Snape closed his book, leaving it in his lap and turned towards Hermione. 

"I have no one to feel lonely for, and I like the stillness. The incessant noise and commotion during the school year grate on my nerves," He stated flatly. "Why? Does it bother you?" 

"Right now, yes, very much." Hermione felt her throat tense up at that admission, and she struggled to keep from crying. 

With that, they fell back into silence; and Hermione, feeling even worse now and fearing she was disturbing his solitude, asked, "Do you want me to leave?" 

"No," he paused staring into her eyes a moment too long. Standing up he continued, "Would you like some tea?" Not waiting for an answer, he moved to the corner of the room and returned with two cups and a kettle. 

"Thermius," Snape pointed his wand at the water to brew the tea. 

Hermione gazed into her cup and watched the steam as it swirled into the air. It amazed her how small things could sometimes mean so much. 

"I should be taking exams right now," she said somberly. 

"Only you could miss the thought of taking exams," Snape chuckled slightly. 

Noticing that her mood did not improve, Snape added, "When we get back, you will have ample time to take exams and do everything else that you should be doing." He paused, "and I assure you, we will get back. Honestly Hermione, there is nothing to miss. Since this world is timeless, we will return home at the moment we left. So you see, everything will be as it was." 

She felt a strange shiver at his use of her first name, "You seem to like it here better. Why are you even trying to return?" 

Snape sighed. His hand moved to his mouth as he pursed his lips. "It's true that this world is considerably less stressful. No annoying little miscreants to deal with and no ..." He let his words drift off. 

"Voldemort," Hermione interjected. 

"Hmm. However, I would certainly never wish to stay here forever. It's a nice place to visit, but it's not truly living." 

Hermione sat back and looked at her professor. He certainly appeared more relaxed than before they had been stranded. He looked almost handsome, though Hermione reasoned it was probably an illusion from being very tired. 

Hermione laid her head against the side of the chair and felt her eyes go heavy. She relaxed and drifted off into a peaceful sleep. 

When she awoke, she was no longer in the chair. She was spread out on Snape's bed, his soft blankets covering her. She could vaguely smell his spiciness on the pillows, and it made her feel safe. She slowly raised herself up looking around the room, and saw Snape watching her. 

He was leaned up against the archway to the front room, a cup of tea in his hand. He stood upright and smiled. 

"Good Morning, Miss Granger." 

~~~***~~~ 

The next few days were spent preparing several portions of the potion that would need to be later added. Hermione slept in her own rooms, though she did find herself going to them later and later, so that she could stay and talk with Snape. 

During one of these preparations, they distilled the ginger root extract that would need to be added to the potion the next day 

The extract bubbled and glurped through a winding roller coaster of tubing, finally coming out the end as a clear liquid, which they allowed to drip into a glass vial. 

"The potion should turn a creamy pale blue, when we add the extract tomorrow," Snape said as he held the vial up examining it. 

Hermione contemplated the extent of Snape's knowledge. He seemed to be talented at everything that she had ever watched him try. She wondered if he had ever struggled with anything and made to ask, "What subject did you have the most difficulty with in school?" 

"What makes you think I have ever had trouble with anything?" 

"Everyone has weaknesses. So what is yours?" 

Snape looked sideways at her and stated, "I would hardly own up to anything that might one day be used against me." 

"Hmm," she thought for a moment. "I bet it was Charms, you never did enjoy 'silly wand waving', although you are an expert at hexes, or so I've been told," She teased. 

Snape was obviously getting a little annoyed, but Hermione paid no attention, "Wait, Wait, I know," she leaned forward smiling, "Care of Magical Creatures. If you spoke to a hippogriff like you do to your..." 

Snape cut her off, "Stop your endless chattering. I will tell you, if you promise to be quiet." 

He sighed and simply stated, "Transfigurations was not my best subject." 

Hermione tried unsuccessfully to hide her grin. 

"I was adequate," he added defensively. "I had difficulty with some of the more advanced portions of the class." He paused and then continued in a hurried manner. "Towards the end of my seventh year, we were to change a desk into a pig and then back again. It would have worked, except my desk began attacking people before I could complete the spell." 

"Really!" Hermione pictured twenty teenagers fleeing from a rampaging desk. 

"Hmm, I think it was fond of me though because it bucked Black halfway across the room into Mildred Pitthouse." Snape grinned pleasantly lost in the image. 

Hermione was almost rolling on the floor at the thought. 

"It was a very advanced spell," he defended himself laughing with her. 

This light-heartedness continued throughout the day; and for the first time in almost a week, Hermione went to bed early, thinking pleasant thoughts and dreaming pleasant dreams. 

Hermione woke up in a light and cheerful mood, which lasted as long as it took her to bathe, dress and make her way to Snape's rooms to check off the date, November 29. Her first trip of the year to Hogsmeade should have been today. She should have been walking with her friends feeling the cool wind and the bright sun, as they joked and laughed their way from store to store; the students bustling with excitement. 

Hermione knew that she would find none of that outside, yet she longed for some escape, and asked Snape if he would take her round the lake. 

"I think it would be possible to leave the potion for a while," he said, while pulling on his robes. 

Snape walked on Hermione's right side, his arms crossed, looking off elsewhere. They strolled in silence. The grounds smelled just as fresh as the day she had left the real world; and what a beautiful day that was. Here though, the air was clinging and unmoving, not breezy as she remembered it. The ground was slightly moist as they walked across the lawn to the edge of the lake. The moon was bright and gave them enough light to see as it reflected off the water. Hermione idly picked up a pebble from their path and tossed it into the lake. 

Suddenly, she had a very impulsive thought. 

"Have you gone mad?" Snape exclaimed as he watched Hermione walk fully clothed into the lake and completely immerse herself in the water. 

She knelt down in the shallow water facing him, so that only her head poked out laughing. 

"When I was little, my parents and I used to go to this park near our home for picnics. It had a picturesque little lake that I would jump in, clothes and all. It was one of my favorite things to do as a child." She smiled even wider adding, "Still is." 

Hermione glanced up at him. He seemed on the verge of a smile. She suspected that Snape was enjoying himself as much as she, though he would be loathed to admit it. 

She was definitely becoming accustomed to his features. He was certainly not the most handsome man, but there was something to him that Hermione liked. She had become fond of his deep dark eyes, his strong intelligent features, and his stately walk and posture. She wondered how she had ever found him dreadful. 

She came out, soaking wet. She wrung the water from her hair and untucked blouse, but still waddled a bit from her wet pants and shoes that squished as she walked. 

The dark, still night would do little to dry her. 

Snape looked at her with an amused glimmer in his eye, "You look rather uncomfortable. Why don't you use a drying spell?" 

"Maybe in a little while. Right now, the water feels wonderful." 

Snape stood watching her for a few moments and asked, "May we take a slight detour? I would like to go to the greenhouse to gather some further supplies." 

Hermione, filled with energy, lightly trotted to his side and walked with him grinning all the way. 

The greenhouse was dark and silent as they entered. Snape separated from Hermione's side and went to pick several plants and herbs from various places. 

Glancing up at the evening sky through the greenhouse windows, Hermione walked to the center aisle, where a long table that held potted plants sat. She climbed on top of the table and lay down on her back among the assortment of magical herbs. 

From this vantage point the sky looked almost real. The windows distorted the stars and sky blurring them, so that she could easily imagine the clouds gently passing among the twinkling stars. She watched the sky, thinking about nothing in particular, but feeling quite content with her adolescent behavior. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by her professor standing over her. In his right hand were a variety of cut plants, and he was staring at her intensely. If Hermione had been aware of the thoughts that entered his mind while watching her lay spread out on the table with her hair a mess and her nipples poking through her wet clinging blouse, she would have blushed. She did not realize this though, and made to smile at him as he looked down at her with a deep expression that she could not make out. 

Snape breathed in deeply and moved a bit closer. 

"What pray tell are you doing now?" He asked in a soft voice. 

She turned her head to look at him better. "Star gazing. If you look up at the sky through the glass, it appears very much like home." She could feel the warmth coming from his body as the front of his robes swept across her arm. She relaxed her head back again focusing on the sky and asked, "Would you like to join me?" 

Snape replied, "We should go." He again took in a deep breath as he held out his free hand to help her up. 

As she sat up, her contentment took over, and she squeezed his hand warmly and placed her other hand on his upper arm. She expected him to gently help her down from the table. Instead, he tensed up, and drawing his hand away, quickly made to leave, robes billowing behind him. 

And so, Hermione was left sitting among the plants feeling very confused. 


	6. Clabberts and Confessions

  
  


Dark Land 

Chapter 6: Clabberts and Confessions 

Hermione stared blankly in confusion for more than a few minutes. Her mind was a daze of questions. Reasoning that she would find no answers with the plants, Hermione made her way back to the castle. The solitary walk was not made any better by the recent events that whirled through her consciousness. She tried to clear her mind, but could not, so she went to her rooms to change placing a Quick Clean Spell on her dirty clothing and then went to Snape's hoping to find him. 

He was not there however, and Hermione's mind began racing and her throat tightened. What had just happened? She realized that while awake she had almost never been without his company. When she read or studied or ate, he was near her. Even at night, he was just across the hall. Her heart gave a panicked thump at the thought that she was all alone. 

She paced his rooms for several hours and sat with a book open, not really reading, for several more. Snape would come back soon, the potion needed attention. She doubted very much if he would trust anyone to such an important matter without his supervision. Surely he would never trust her to tend it alone. 

When she had read and paced and looked after the potion, not really concentrating on any of these tasks, she was near tears with tension. Her hands were shaking and her legs felt weak. 

She decided she needed to calm down and poured herself a small glass of brandy from a bottle, Snape kept at his bedside. She sat down on his bed drinking slowly, trying to focus her attention on the book in front of her. His warm blankets and soft smelling pillows helped to relax and calm her. She realized that his presence had much the same effect, and she began missing him. 

She didn't know when it happened, but slowly her eyelids grew heavy and her mind drifted off to sleep. 

Hermione was pulled out of her sleep by gentle fingers sweeping stray hairs away from her face. 

"You appear lost. Have you forgotten where your bed is?" Snape said in a silky voice. 

As she looked into his eyes, she was filled with relief. He looked worn and unshaven, but nothing had happened to him. She felt odd about worrying so much, the likelihood of anything happening was slim and Snape was very capable of taking care of himself. 

"What time is it?" Hermione asked as she leaned back against the headboard. 

"Early." He looked over at the nightstand and said in disbelief, "Have you been drinking?" 

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I was waiting for you and couldn't sleep." 

"What happened?" She continued, "You look awful. You haven't slept at all, have you?" 

Snape stood up and walked round to the other side of the bed. He sat down, with his back to her and began taking off his shoes. 

"I need to sleep," he said, intentionally avoiding her questions. 

The familiarity of his movements and voice made the thought of leaving unbearable enough for Hermione to ask, "May I stay here?" 

Snape froze silent and his body tensed. 

"Not here in bed with you," Hermione clarified. "I meant here in the front room. I'll just read quietly." 

Snape nodded as he took off his robes and climbed into bed still wearing his slacks and shirt. 

Hermione hesitated for a few moments watching him. She smiled slightly as he closed his eyes. 

Carefully, she left the bed and made her way to the front room. As she curled up near the fireplace, the quiet rustling of his movements and hushed breathing filled her heart. 

Hermione read for a while and then fell asleep in the chair, relaxed by Snape's presence. 

She woke back up a few hours later with a slight cramp in her neck. Snape was still sleeping. 

She wondered why he had run off. He was such an enigma; she would never fully understand him. He hadn't acted like he was upset with her this morning, far from it. He had been soft and kind and gentle. His affectionate touches and stares made Hermione consider that he might be developing feelings towards her. 

She wasn't sure how she felt about that. 

She got up and went to her rooms to change and then down to the kitchens to eat a quick muffin with jam. 

When she got back to his rooms, Snape was awake and in the bathroom. When he came out, Hermione noticed that he looked much healthier, though his hair was wet and his feet were bare. A small towel hung around his neck, which he was using to wipe off excess shaving cream. His shirt was untucked and partially unbuttoned. Hermione could see a bit of black hair contrasting on his pale chest. 

She wanted to interrogate Snape further about his reasons for leaving, but was hesitant. She had asked him once already to no avail. She suspected any attempts to ask again would be met with similar results. She also realized that, if he was developing feelings for her, her inquiries would only create an uncomfortable tension. It really wasn't her business anyway, and if Snape wanted her to know what was on his mind, he would tell her. 

With her decision made, she entered Snape's bedroom intent to act as if the incident had never occurred. 

"I just checked on the potion and it seems to be doing well," Snape said as he unrolled a sock ball. 

"Yes, I stirred in the asphodel yesterday." 

"Very good. Then today we need to perform the final steps, before allowing it to simmer again." 

After Snape had dressed, they made their way down to the laboratory and continued their work. 

Hermione pealed and sliced the fluxweed into thin, neat pieces, while Snape said an incantation and the potion began bubbling fiercely. They added the chopped weed and watched as the mixture turned from a pale blue to a black tar-like substance. 

Snape turned down the heat and the tar gurgled large bubbles to the surface. 

Now they had to wait. 

~~~***~~~ 

Hermione was laying on her belly by Snape's feet, a Transfigurations text open in front of her. She had begun to focus on her seventh year classes, now that their work was at a stand still. She was using one of Snape's pillows to cushion and prop her up. She had become quite fond of his things lately. 

"Could you demonstrate how you turned that table into a pig? I'm sure it would be helpful, so I can avoid a similar incident," she teased. 

He responded by softly kicking her arm. 

"Ugh! I can't focus." She rolled on her back and put her hands in her hair. 

She looked up at him and asked, "Tell me a story?" 

"Tell you a what?" Snape glared at her incredulously. 

"A story, I need a diversion," She smiled up at him. 

"Why should I do that?" He asked flatly. 

"If you do not, I will be forced to resort to idle chit-chat." 

He sighed heavily. "Fine, but I can not promise you it will be very diverting." 

"Several years ago, while collecting potion ingredients in Hogwarts' forest, I came upon a very unusual clabbert. Now, most clabberts are highly annoying. They swing from tree limb to tree limb, chattering noisily. This one was all that, but he was also bold and curious. Some might say too curious for his own good. It followed me. The bothersome creature swung down from trees, popping up in front of my face one moment, and chattered away jumping up and down at my feet the next. I tried to discourage him," Snape paused and looked at Hermione. "I kicked him nearly three meters, but he seemed to like the assault because he became even more affectionate. He hung his long arms around my neck swinging and climbing on my back. Disgusting. The little beast followed me all the way back to the castle." 

"So what happened to him?" 

"Oh, He's sitting in a particularly large pickle jar in my office." Snape pointed nonchalantly to the door. 

"That's a horrible story!" 

"I'm a horrible person." 

He continued, "There is a moral to the story." 

"What? Curiosity Killed the Clabbert." 

"Hmm, I was thinking more of Know Thy Enemy." 

She studied his face carefully. It gave nothing away. She suddenly needed to know if he really was a horrible person. 

"Why did you become a Death Eater?" 

He looked away from her. 

"You don't have to answer, if you don't want to." 

"Obviously," he said sharply. There was a full minute of silence before he replied, "I think it would be best if you returned to your rooms for the night." 

With that he stood and walked Hermione to the door. 

Hermione felt terrible, what an idiot she could be. How could she ask him something like that? What had she expected, that he would suddenly open his heart to her? She should have known better. Snape was a highly personal man, and that was an incredibly sensitive question. He would never share details with her; he was, after all, just her professor. She should not have made any assumptions otherwise. 

~~~~~***~~~~~~~ 

The next few days were tense. Hermione could sense that Snape was avoiding her. He rarely spoke, unless it was about their work. They still checked on the potion several times a day. Hermione really didn't need to go with Snape on these occasions, but she couldn't stand being alone, and he never complained. That would require conversation. 

Hermione tried to occupy herself with her seventh year curriculum. Focusing on school work did not have the effect Hermione had hoped for. The school work tended to bring her mind to her friends, rather than take it off of them. 

The lack of conversation, work, and serious distractions played havoc with her when she slept. She had never felt so alone, and the stillness of the castle only intensified the feeling. 

Hermione lay in bed staring at the ceiling. Her heart ached and tears welled up in her eyes. She quickly sat up and sunk her head into her hands. 

She needed to leave this room, to find solace elsewhere. She wanted to go to Snape, but her stupid words had ruined that option. 

Her only other choice was the Play Room. She hadn't been there for some time, hadn't needed to go there. Snape had always been a much better cure for her melancholy. 

She rolled out of bed and put on her slippers before making her way through the long corridors up to the Play Room. 

The oppressive silence of the hallways unnerved her as she walked alone. The walls looked aged and dead and the paintings, though unmoving cast glares that seemed to follow her. 

Everything was wrong. 

The Play Room was bright and lively. The trees and clouds swayed and moved, and the squirrels and dogs danced and played, giving Hermione some comfort. She fell into one of the squishy chairs and brought her knees to her chest looking around. 

She realized that no matter where she was, or how cheerful her surroundings were, if they didn't involve Snape, she felt empty; and at this particular moment, she felt very empty. 

Getting up, she quickly resolved go to Snape's rooms. If he rejected her, so be it. She could hardly be made to feel worse than she did at this moment. 

~~~***~~~ 

Snape was lying in bed wearing his grey pajamas. He sat up as soon as she entered. 

"Hermione?" 

"I'm sorry, I woke you. I couldn't sleep. Should I leave?" She spoke cautiously. 

"Well, I'm awake now, so if you stay or go it makes no difference to my sleep." 

Hermione took this as an invitation to stay, and she moved to the edge of his bed. She gave him a timid smile. 

"Would you like to play some cards?" Snape asked dryly as he pulled a deck out from his nightstand drawer. 

Hermione's smile widened, as she went to sit on the bed. 

They played cards for several hours. 

"Bela!" Hermione declared. 

Snape glared at her. 

"And that makes 501 game," she said triumphantly, as she put down her cards. 

Hermione lay back against a pillow and found herself becoming very tired. She didn't have the energy or desire to go back to her rooms; everything here was soft and comfortable. Snape pulled the blankets back and covered her, though she hardly realized it. 

As she drifted off into a deep sleep, she did not feel the gentle kiss Snape placed on her forehead. 

She woke up a few hours later with Snape's arm lying on her stomach, his hand limp around her waist. His body wasn't touching hers, but it was close. She moved to snuggle in closer, waking him up. 

He stared at her intensely and his long fingers went to her face sliding a stray hair behind her ear. 

"Would you still like to know why I followed Voldemort?" He whispered hoarsely. 

She nodded silently. 

"I wish the answer were simple." His voice was hushed, but she was close enough to hear. "When I reflect back on the choices I made; choices that at the time seemed perfectly sound; I can't believe how incredibly naive and stupid I was." 

He turned on his back moving his eyes to the ceiling. 

"When I was in school, The Dark Lord's terror was not as violent as it was towards the end. There were rumors of course, and lectures from Dumbledore and the staff about choices, but these were largely ignored." 

"It was promoted as a political movement, for Pure Blood pride and for returning to the early days of Wizarding. This movement seemed logical in the face of all the stupidity and ignorance I observed on a day to day basis. The prejudices against Muggle-born witches and wizards as well as other mixed bloods were there, but they weren't the focus; and at the time, it was common place to here these prejudices expressed. The Ministry still uses this bigotry to accuse people like Hagrid, when they need a scapegoat." 

He turned to look at her and continued, "I personally have never been impressed with most people, Pure Blood or otherwise. I knew the prejudices were there, and though I didn't agree completely with the rhetoric, I chose to ignore the underlying danger behind the message." 

"The woman I was with at the time, Florence, suspected that I was in league with Voldemort and left. I cared, but I was already too deeply involved to do anything about it." 

"As I fell further in, I realized that many Death Eaters were not as dedicated to the original movement, as they were to causing destruction and violence." 

"My skills with potions and my distaste for torture and killing allowed me a good deal of absolution from participating in the violent attacks." He paused, "Don't misunderstand me, many people died or were tortured by potions that I brewed. I just never had to endure the direct assault." 

"Unsettling, sick feelings began to grow in me as I observed others laughing and bragging about the cruel acts they performed. I realized I no longer wanted to be a Death Eater, but I saw no way out. I knew I could trust Florence, and that Dumbledore would trust her, so I began leaking information to him through her. I'm sure Dumbledore knew the real source, but I wasn't about to allow myself to be exposed openly as a Death Eater. I never had any intention of ending up in Azkaban." 

"She was killed, not because of the information that she had given to Dumbledore, but to find out if she knew anything about the resistance. She had many friends who were Aurors and was generally known to hold views against Voldemort. Her death prompted me to go directly to Dumbledore and begin actively spying." 

They sat in silence for a moment. 

Not knowing what to say, Hermione asked, "Did you really pickle that clabbert?" 

"No, I should have though. I gave him to Hagrid. He used the creature as an alarm for his chicken coop. They signal, you know, when they're in danger. Light up like a Christmas Tree." 

They both smiled and laughed slightly. 

He rolled on his side, and the front of his waist came in contact with her hip. She realized he was aroused. When they touched, all the light heartedness went out of the room, and they laid frozen staring into each others eyes. 

And in that moment of silence, Hermione became sure of her feelings. Her heart gave a great leap and her throat tightened. His stares and smell and warmth were overpowering her. 

"Do you want to kiss me? Because I'd let you, if you want to." She made to touch him. 

Snape rolled onto his back and chuckled roughly, covering his eyes with his forearm. As he lay on his back, Hermione noticed his hardness tenting the cotton pajamas. 

Not looking at her he said, "Go back to your rooms, Hermione." 

Before she could do or say anything to argue, he got up and locked himself in the bathroom. 


	7. The Culmination

  
By Tegan  


   
Dark Land   


Chapter 7: The Culmination   


A/N: This is a PG-13 version. The original can be found at   


http://www.knightslady.com/wiktt/story.php?no=72   


Hermione stood there in silence, not quite sure what to say or do, but knowing that she most certainly did not want to leave. She followed Snape to the bathroom door and called through.   


"Will you come out here and talk to me?" She tried not to make her voice sound too desperate.   


The door opened slightly allowing Snape's body to come into view. He leaned on the door frame and stared down at her.   


"Can you not understand what a precarious situation we are in? You are half my age and my student," he paused, "or you will be again once we return to real life."   


"I'm eighteen," she whispered. She was actually almost nineteen if you took into account the time she'd spent here and with the Time-Turner, though she doubted Snape would accept that reasoning.   


He sighed and closed his eyes, "You may not believe this, but I do have some honor, for whatever that may be worth, and I will not take advantage of a student."   


She just looked at him feeling both hurt and embarrassed.   


"I need some distance from you right now," his words were pleading.   


She nodded silently and left the room.   


Everything that he had said made sense to Hermione. It would be very difficult to continue a relationship like this back in the real world. There were far too many obstacles to overcome. Her friends, family, and society would never accept their relationship. She was a fool for letting her emotions get the better of her.   


She went to her rooms, as tears welled up in her eyes. She hated crying; she hated the whole idea of losing control. She went to the bathroom and began filling the tub with water that was a bit too warm trying to soothe and hide her tears from herself.   


She let her head sink deep into the water and laid at the bottom staring up at the ceiling for almost a half minute, until she could hold her breath no longer. The water was hot enough that it stung her eyes and turned her skin a bright shade of pink, but it took away her tears and gave her some comfort.   


Her whole body still tingled from his touch, yet her heart and stomach ached from the loss. She longed for his touch even now. She could still feel his breath softly blowing on her face and the heavy warmth of his arm on her stomach. It all felt so right and safe and comforting.   


  


She reflected on the events of the past week. Snape had stared at her hungrily and with such passion, yet he had not acted on his feelings.   


  


When she got out of the tub, the air was thick with steam and the mirror was fogged.   


She used her hand to wipe a circle clean and she stared at her reflection. Her hair was soaked and dripping from big clumps and tangled chunks. Her eyes were red and she was flushed. She was glad that the charms on this mirror did not work, as she didn't think she would like to hear what it had to say.   


She toweled herself off and walked nude into her rooms falling backwards onto the bed. The cool dungeon air felt good on her hot moist skin. She spread her arms and legs like an eagle to allow the coolness to touch every part of her body.   


A knock on her door jerked Hermione to a sitting position. She glared at the door suspiciously before saying, "Just a moment."   


She threw on her dressing gown and walked to the door, hair still wet with tangled strands matted to her face. Her appearance should have been comical, however when Snape looked at her, he did not smile.   


"Would you like to walk to the kitchens with me to get something to eat?" His voice was low and forced.   


"I'm not hungry," she answered staring at the floor. She, in fact, felt quite ill.   


"Hermione, you must understand why we cannot move forward with this relationship. Can you honestly picture us as friends, let alone lovers? You would be risking your friends, reputation and future if we were found out, while I would be risking my position as a teacher."   


She took a deep breath and blurted out, "I understand, I'm sorry I acted as I did."   


"It is not your fault. I have not been acting appropriately, and I've known it for over a week now. I should never have let our relationship become what it has."   


Hermione looked up into his eyes and saw pain there. She wanted to say or do something to take that pain away.   


Snape continued solemnly, "Is it agreed then, that we will keep our distance?"   


Hermione nodded and slowly closed the door without saying a word. She was afraid that if she spoke, her heart would come pouring out. If they had to keep their distance, she could not be in the same room with him right now, not in her state.   


And so they did keep their distance. The next two weeks were very difficult. Hermione tried to avoid being in the same room with Snape, though she made sure he wasn't too far away. They talked, but it was awkward small talk, the kind Snape detested, but the only type either ventured to start.   


Eventually though, the Portestas Potion had simmered to where they were able to test the mixture on the spiral.   


Snape's attention was entirely focused on the task at hand. He poured the potion over the arms of the clear spiral. The liquid was soon soaked up by the spiral, which glowed for a moment before settling into a deep emerald green. When Snape tested its magical output, Hermione could tell that something was different. It glowed a bright neon yellow and filled her with exhilaration, much stronger than she had ever felt before. The spiral itself gave off an aura that she could feel go through every part of her body like lightning. It left her anxiously yearning for something unknown.   


A large smile gathered on the Snape's face as he triumphantly announced, "I think we are successful!"   


Hermione was ecstatic, she was going home! Without thinking she ran to Snape wrapping her arms around his neck, only to be lifted off the ground in a wild embrace, which inexplicably and not knowing who initiated it led to a firm kiss. At first realization of what was happening Hermione tensed up, but then feeling the same in Snape and determined not to let it end, deepened the kiss closing her arms tighter around his neck.   


They kissed and held each other tight for many minutes, hungrily feeding each others needs. He was pressed tightly against her and she could feel him hard against her body.   


Eventually, they needed to breathe. And in that moment, Snape pulled Hermione to arm's length taking in air heavily. He then turned round and quickly strode out of the room as Hermione's heart sank.   


  


Hermione stared at the door in stunned silence. He had run away again. How could he do this? She became determined not to allow this pattern to continue, and she followed him up the stairs to his rooms.   


It was obvious from his actions that he certainly wanted her, and left to his instincts would have taken her right there. But his higher brain functions stopped him. Hermione realized that she could not act the unsure innocent. She needed to make a move, strong enough to overwhelm him into acting and not thinking. She resolved on her course of action, unsure if it was the right move and a bit scared of what would necessarily follow if it worked.   


She entered Snape's rooms to find him sitting at his desk. His robe was hanging loosely on the back of the chair. He was leaning forward, back towards her, with his head propped up by his hands; his long fingers poking through his hair.   


Without moving or making an attempt to look at her he said, "I apologize for my behavior. It was obviously some temporary side effect of the spiral. The artifact was used at one time in marriage ceremonies, and it must have had some effect on us. I should have had more control."   


Hermione thought what he really needed was less control.   


"I want you," she began. "I want to be near you, and I felt that way long before the spiral took affect."   


He stood up and faced her, a cold glare in his eyes, "That feeling will pass as well. We will shortly be returning to the real world, where you will not want," he stopped and rephrased, "where we can not be together."   


As he said this, she mustered all the courage she had and kissed him.   


"Come here," he moaned and his hands wrapped around her chin as she made her way up to his mouth, kissing him deeply and passionately.   


They stayed wrapped in each others arms relaxing and coming back to reality. He snuggled his nose and face into her hair, touching her neck.   


"What am I going to do with you?" He sounded almost pained and desperate.   


Hermione knew he was right. What was he going to do with her? He was her professor and they would be going home shortly.   


These thoughts plagued both their minds, so that neither spoke for a long time. 


	8. Come Full Circle

  
  


**Dark****Land**

**Chapter 8: ****Come Full Circle**

Eventually, Hermione fell asleep wrapped in Snape's arms. He stayed face to her neck for most of the night gently breathing the warmness of his sleep into her hair. His soft straight hair intertwined with her bushy hair as their heads lay touching. 

Hermione snuggled her face into the pillow as her nose was filled with his spicy scent. She had never been interested in the senses before, concentrating on book knowledge, but at that moment, her senses and what he did to those senses were her only focus. 

These feelings warmed her while she slept, only to be replaced by others as she slowly came round to consciousness, and woke up to find herself alone. 

As her eyes fluttered open and she became aware of her surroundings, she could neither see nor hear Snape. She tried to avoid thinking of the many negative implications of his absence. 

Hoping he might be working, she wrapped his soft cotton sheet around her body and walked barefoot into the laboratory, sheet trailing down the stairs. He was not there however, and a sinking feeling crept through her. 

She went back to the bedroom and hunted for her clothes which were strewn throughout the room. After throwing them on and noticing, though hardly caring, that her blouse was inside out and she was still holding her underwear, she went back to her own rooms, her body tense and mind dazed and confused. 

When she entered her bedroom, she pulled off her clothes and tossed them onto the bed, as she headed for the bathroom. She was stopped by her image reflecting from the full length mirror near the bed as she passed. She stood for a few minutes staring at her nakedness. She had never really evaluated herself. She was never displeased with her body or looks; she simply found that vanity was a waste of time. Now though, she examined her hair as it hung wildly in long bushy strands shooting this way and that over her thin shoulders and back. She watched closely as she ran her hands over her small, but proportionate breasts and gently swooping hips. She needed to make sure that she had not been altered from the experience. She knew it was a ridiculous notion, yet she could not help but dwell on it. She could see no noticeable difference however, and breathed a sigh of relief. 

She lifted her hair up to look at her neck and noticed puffy red teeth marks on her shoulder. She touched them, and they ached and itched slightly from the bruising. She took a deep breath, not knowing how she felt about herself or her choices from last night. 

She went to the bathroom sink and splashed some cold water on her face to gather her wits, but soon found herself pacing her rooms shoving her hands through her untidy hair. 

She knew she could not bear to wait patiently for him, so she took a deep breath and pinned her hair back with a clip, small strands sticking out here and there. Throwing on some clean clothes, she set out across the corridor to check if he had returned. Unfortunately his rooms were as empty as she knew they would be. With this discovery, she resolved to look for him. 

She knew upon starting out that it would be a fruitless quest. The castle and grounds were so large that if Snape did not want to be found, he certainly would not. He could have gone anywhere. 

Regardless of the futility, Hermione set out. 

She spent more than a few hours searching the kitchens and Great Hall, teachers' lounge and offices, the Play Room and Owlery, the Common Rooms and classrooms. She checked upstairs and downstairs through the winding corridors of the dungeons, until she feared she would not find her way back. 

All the while, checking every so often to see if he had returned. 

Her tension grew with each disappointment, but at least she felt she was doing something, not just waiting passively for his return. 

When the maze of hallways and rooms had overwhelmed her, she decided to search the grounds. 

Upon stepping outside, she was relieved to find him in sight, near the lake. Snape was leaned up against a large tree looking out onto the water. He did not move when Hermione approached. 

Now that she had found him, a tight silence grabbed her throat. She could not speak, so instead chose to let him begin. She sat down on the ground near his feet and brought her legs up to her chest, as she looked absently at the water. 

The water did not stir, so she turned her attention to her feet as she moved them back and forth. 

"Stop fidgeting or leave me alone." Snape's hand went to the bridge of his nose rubbing it as if he had a headache. 

She stood up and crossed her arms. 

"Are you all right?" She looked up at him meekly. 

He turned his head and glared down at her, "As I said before I don't sleep much." 

"Is that why you left?" 

He sighed, "I needed some time alone to think." 

There was a moment of silence in which Hermione gathered the courage to ask, "So have you decided what you will do with me?" 

"The answer to that question is obvious. The only thing that can be done, nothing." His words were cold and harsh. 

"What do you mean nothing? Why are you being like this?" 

"Would you rather I yell and tell you what a stupid, stupid girl you are? Would that be better?" He paused and spoke more calmly, "You are in fact quite intelligent, and as being such should realize a mistake when made." 

Hermione could feel sickness build with in her stomach and throat as he said this. 

"I hoped it was not, that is to say, I didn't think it was at the time," she weakly replied. 

"Hermione this was a huge mistake on both our parts." He breathed in before continuing, "Do you really think we would be able to sneak around the school snogging in dark corners when we return? Even if we could, I would not want to. I have no desire to form a relationship with you." 

"I thought," her voice was low and strained. 

"You thought what, that I loved you?" He chuckled slightly. "You are a naive child, confusing loneliness and desire with love." 

Hermione felt numb, and her hands shook slightly. 

"I may have misinterpreted your feelings, but I think mine are real," she tried to make her voice sound even and clear, though to her ears it was shaky and strained. 

"Are you not lonely?" Hermione looked away as he asked. "Depression does strange things to the mind. I'm sure that once we are back you will understand that as well. However, if you want to have sex again before we leave, I would not be opposed to the idea. The damage has been done, but I can assure you that upon our return, I will not talk with you unless it is in a classroom full of students." 

This statement hit Hermione with more force than anything else he could have said. It was so cold and direct. She wondered if all the humanity she had believed him to possess was just imagined on her part. How could he be this way? Yet he was. Hermione felt an emptiness in her soul and an embarrassment over her impulsivity grow. 

He interrupted her thoughts by saying, "I would like to return to the real world as soon as possible, if you agree." 

Hermione nodded numbly. 

They walked together back to the castle, yet very much apart. 

"We still need to place an Attraction Charm and a Self-Destruct Spell on our artifact before we can go back. We must stop the other portkey before it can send anyone else to an incomplete universe," Snape said dryly. 

He really did feel nothing; there was no warmth or emotion in his words. He showed no hint of affection towards her at all. He was strictly focused on their work at the moment. 

Hermione could take no more and walked away leaving Snape standing in the Entrance Hallway. She soon found herself by the Play Room door with very little recollection of how she got there. 

Hermione entered the room with a quick stride flailing herself onto one of the chairs in the corner. She brought her hand up to her mouth and sat numbly staring ahead for several minutes. 

She had grossly misinterpreted his intentions and feelings. Looking back on the past few weeks, it struck Hermione how odd it was that she had ever thought he cared. He was clearly sexually interested in her, but nothing more. She laid her head in her hands and stared at the ground. Her mouth began to water up, and she had to swallow hard. 

She was numb and nauseous, but at no point did she feel like breaking down to cry. She should have been a complete wreck, and though she was far from stable, she was also not hysterical with misery. She began to wonder if she may have misinterpreted her own feelings as well. 

Hermione wished that she could hate and blame him right now, but she could not. He was being honest, it was she who had followed him, seduced him, when he was trying to stay away from her. 

She had caused this mess. It was all her fault, and she needed to face up to the consequences. 

Determined to act as she should, she stood up and exited the room. One flight down the winding tower's steps she met Snape. 

He spoke softly, "Hermione, I..." 

"I'm fine, I just needed a moment to think," she cut him off. "Are the spells complete?" She really had no idea how long she had been in the Play Room. 

"No, I haven't been back to the lab, but it should only take a short time to complete them." 

"Well, we had better get to it then." She walked swiftly around him carefully avoiding contact in the narrow stairway. 

And so, they worked on the charms. The spells were simple enough that they were finished within a few hours. 

"This Attraction Spell should lure the other artifact to our spiral, so that when they touch, the Self-Destruct Spell will destroy them both." 

"How do we know that the spiral will send us to our universe?" She had never bothered to ask before, just trusted him to know. She didn't really care now; it was simply a random thought that played in her mind. 

"We don't, however these incomplete worlds tend to cling to our central complete universe. It would be more likely to send us there than to a separate, clinging universe. Also, the area at which the first rip occurred may still be weak. Hopefully, by activating our portkey at that location, the rip will reopen." 

Without looking at her he continued, "When we return, I would prefer that your involvement in this matter be kept secret. It will make things easier on both of us not to have to explain how we spent our time together." 

She looked up at him in surprise. 

He continued, "There is no reason the headmaster should ever be aware that you were here. It will keep questions down to a minimum. Dumbledore is not a fool, but he is also not omnipotent, things can slip by with out his knowledge, and there is no reason to tell him of your involvement, of our involvement." 

"That means that you must not mention this to anyone," his voice was low and serious. 

"I understand," she said. How could she logically explain her actions to Ron or Harry even if she wanted to? 

"You should put on the clothes that you were wearing, and fix yourself as you were when we arrived. You need to look the same when we return. Hermione nodded silently and took out her hair clip throwing it on the table before leaving to change. 

She shook her hair out as she climbed the steps feeling as if she were a plane on autopilot. 

As Hermione passed Snape's desk, she noticed his pocket watch hanging as a large wall clock. The watch brought up feelings and memories from the past three months that she knew were soon to be as if they had never existed. She put a Reducio Spell on the watch and slipped it into her pocket. 

She sat on her bed listlessly touching the gold watch feeling its cool metal and engravings. The engravings reflected Snape's personality. A Celtic design wove around the edges of the watch. An image of a sword, criss-crossed a circle, while other lines and patterns flowed through its sides. A snake poked its head through a loop from another odd fish-like creature. It reminded her a bit of an M.C. Escher sketch where figures change and merge into unusual designs. She knew he would certainly miss the watch, and so resolved to return it to him before they left. 

She took a deep breath and shook her head trying to focus her thoughts. She would have to take a quick bath to tame her hair. She grabbed a chunk of her messy mop. It still smelled faintly like him, he had lain so near her while she slept. 

While running the water, Hermione concluded that it was useless to dwell on unpleasant situations that she was helpless to change. She tried very hard to remember all of the wonderful things to which she would soon be returning. She pictured Harry's unruly black hair and slim body, glasses and bright green eyes; as well as, Ron's smiling freckled face and red hair. The boys always joked and laughed and made her feel like family. She hadn't laughed or joked as a student for a long time. Crookshanks would welcome her back with his big furry body purring against hers. He was so very loyal and protective. She thought how nice it would be to write to her family. She missed her mother and father immensely. Classes and studying would soon take her mind off of any unpleasantness. She was resolved then to think no more of this situation, to pretend as if it had never happened, that was his wish anyway. 

After a short time, Hermione climbed out of the tub, placing a Drying Spell on her hair and dressing in her school robes. She then made her way across the corridor to find Snape waiting by his door, holding the spiral. 

They walked upstairs to the corridor where this had all begun. 

Snape set the portkey to activate with a five minute delay and placed it on the ground. These last few minutes were the longest of Hermione's life. She would be going home soon and this whole thing would, in effect, be cancelled out, as if never having occurred. Only she and Snape would know the truth. How was she going to pretend as though this experience had never happened? She wondered how she would be able to act as an indifferent student around him. She definitely didn't want to explain in half truths and outright lies what had happened during their time together; however she couldn't imagine keeping all of her feelings inside. 

She looked up at Snape who was stoically focused on the spiral. 

Eventually, the spiral became animated, moving and twisting its green tendrils into a mass of untamed worms. 

Hermione could feel the waves of energy spread through her body as it moved. She noticed a small black void begin to appear near the hanging tapestry on the wall. Snape picked up the spiral and they walked to the void, which quickly enlarged to cover most of the wall. The concave edges swooped forward like a giant parachute engulfing them in blackness. Hermione was tumbling and twisting, falling fast through the darkness, until she finally hit the ground hard. 


	9. Reflections

  
  


**Dark****Land**

**Chapter 9: Reflections **

Though the experience was not entirely unfamiliar, falling uncontrollably into darkness was still quite jarring. This time however, before Hermione hit the floor, she saw it coming. A tiny speck of light soon became a small circle at the end of a long tunnel. Its circumference grew to life size the instant before she hit the ground. The dim Hogwarts' torches lit her way enough, so that she was able to use her hands rather than her head to break her fall. 

She rolled slowly and somewhat painfully onto her back and saw Snape stumbling to stand. He seemed to wobble with no sense of balance. She realized, while looking around, that the earth spun and tilted for her as well. She weakly sat up, her stomach turning inside out. She put her hands to her head and took a few deep breaths to steady herself. When her confusion had subsided a bit, she lifted her head only to see a painting of a small girl on a pony waving at her. 

She froze, staring at the animated image. A smile of understanding gradually appeared on her face. 

The soft lights, the friendly waving pictures, the bright rugs and gently flowing tapestries, everything was full of movement and color. They had truly made it back home. 

She breathed in deeply. The air was not stagnant. Small creaks and murmurs filled her ears, as the halls that she had thought deserted and desolate gave sounds she never realized before. 

Hermione's musings were suddenly interrupted by a lightning crack and a blinding flash of green. Its brightness was intense, and Hermione arched back against the wall. She covered her eyes and felt a wave of heat rush across her face. She awkwardly stood up leaning against the wall for support and opened her eyes, but saw only spots. After rubbing her eyes and blinking a few times, she found that their spells on the spiral had indeed worked. 

The two portkeys had fused into a lump of molten rock on the floor. Grey fumes were rising from the heap smelling like burnt rubber. Black scorch marks covered the floor radiating out from the central point where the two spirals had collided. 

Hermione could not move or utter a word. She stared dumbfounded at the mess in front of her. All the stimuli of the past few seconds had been too much. 

A low, cold voice from behind pulled Hermione from her shock. 

"Go back to your Common Room, Miss Granger." 

His lack of emotion and use of her proper name brought reality back, and she turned numbly towards Gryffindor Tower without saying a word. 

As Hermione muddled through the long corridors, her body shivered with cold, though the hallways should have been quite comfortable this mild September night. Her eyes jetted from one tapestry to another glancing at a large painting of hooded monks who stared down at her. Everything that should have given her familiar comfort was so foreign. A panic began to build in her, as she neared the picture of the Fat Lady. 

Hermione's mind raced. It had been three months since she had stayed in her bedroom in Gryffindor Tower. Three months since she had seen her friends, who were now just around the corner. Three months since she had spoken to anyone or anything besides Snape. 

Hermione stopped for an instant and closed her eyes breathing in deeply. She had suddenly become aware that she would need a password to enter. It took her more than a moment to calm down enough to recall. 

"_Advena Formosus," and the picture swung open to reveal a very surprised Seamus, Harry, and Ron. _

"That was fast. Where's Lizzy?" Seamus stepped forward as fear filled his eyes. 

She suddenly remembered that she was to have returned with his sister and her friend. From where she was to have found them though, still eluded her. 

Hermione stared blankly for a moment. "Everything has been taken care of. I'm sure she is fine." She tried to sound confident and reassuring, though she felt far from either. 

"What happened?" Harry asked. 

"I'm not sure, Professor Snape just told me to go back to my Common Room." It wasn't a complete lie. 

Her eyes moved to her friends as she said this, and her heart leapt to her throat so that she could not breathe. Harry and Ron were everything wonderful that she had imagined they would be and more. When she had pictured them in her mind, they were always smiling motionlessly, much like a Muggle photograph. Now though, they moved changing their facial expressions so smoothly and frequently, Hermione could imagine a wide range of emotions within their souls. 

She must have been staring, because Ron asked, "Is everything all right? You look like you haven't seen us for ages." 

Hermione smiled broadly and laughed at the irony of his statement. 

"I'm fine, really." She put her hand on his arm securing his presence in her mind. "I just need to go upstairs for a little while." 

She most certainly did. 

Everything felt so strange, and she was still shaken. Her hands and body were under control, but just barely. Her legs still felt unsteady and weak. Hermione needed to clear her mind, before she could carry on a coherent conversation with anyone. 

She made her way up to her room. Crookshanks was lying on the bed and looked up at her as she entered. He stood up stretching and gave a tiny meow. All her feelings of love and joy at seeing her friends came to the surface. Although she had to remain in control around others, here she could express all of her thoughts and feelings. He was the one creature in whom she could confide. She grabbed him swinging the stunned cat around, before flopping on her bed laying the great orange furball on her chest. 

"I missed you Crooks, old boy," she sighed into his ear, while scruffing his neck with her hands. 

Crookshanks replied with a violent purr. 

As she lay on her bed absently stroking her cat's soft long hair, she fixed her attention up at her canopy. The scarlet and gold Gryffindor colors were so familiar and filled her with a sense of pride. She hadn't realized until this moment how much her house and her life meant. 

Eventually her mind cleared enough that she went downstairs to join the others. She sat down in a big red chair next to Harry and Ron, who were setting up to play wizard chess. Just as she sat down, Professor McGonagall entered the room with the missing girls trailing behind. The girls wore mischievous grins and generally looked very pleased with themselves. 

Seamus ran to his sister wrapping his arms around her hugging her tightly, before slapping her lightly on the head. Her grin faded, and she looked up at him innocently. 

McGonagall crossed her arms and gave the girls a stern look as a silver headed ferret popped out of the small blonde's robes. 

"Up to your rooms immediately girls and remain there." 

The girls moved swiftly, heads hanging low, but began giggling the moment they started on the winding staircase. 

The professor sighed at this sight and directed her attention to Hermione. "My dear, would you assemble the other students?" 

Hermione nodded affectionately at McGonagall and made her way to the dormitories. 

The Gryffindors came down the stairs quietly, fear and curiosity emanating from their bodies as they assembled in the Common Room. The students respected their head of house and stood waiting in anticipation for her to begin. 

"There is no reason to worry," Professor McGonagall announced with confidence. "The situation has been handled. We thought there was an intruder in the castle, and for your own safety sent you here. Hogwarts is as safe as always, however since it is nearly 8:00; I would like you to remain in Gryffindor Tower for the evening." 

Hermione had always emulated Professor McGonagall's mixture of caring and discipline. She would need to find that in herself once more. 

As Head Girl, it was Hermione's responsibility to see that the students remained calm and orderly. She helped to disperse the students, walking several of the younger children up to their rooms. 

"My very first year," Hermione assured the children, "a giant mountain troll ran loose through the corridors; broke into the girl's bathroom while I was there. It was frightening at the time, but the professors have always handled anything that has come along. I'm sure that they were being cautious tonight, and am pleased to hear that it was not a serious crisis." 

The students stared in amazement, "A real mountain troll! Wow! I wish I could have been there." 

Hermione laughed lightly at their innocence and youthful enthusiasm. 

When Hermione returned to the Common Room, Ron and Harry were lying on the rug in front of the fireplace directing their chessmen into battle. 

Harry was arguing with his last knight, who did not want to move. Reluctantly the knight obeyed trembling and cursing as he rode his horse into position. Harry was losing pretty badly. 

Harry's face went from thoughtful intensity to frustration as soon as, Ron's bishop, who looked serene in the midst of a blessing, moved diagonally to Harry's knight. The bishop's face changed to a menacing smirk, as he slammed his staff down hard upon Harry's knight. The knight and horse crumbled into fragments, which floated to the side of the board. 

Ron jumped back in excitement and gave a clap. His bright red hair bounced and shifted into a new position. 

Hermione watched all these things, as she curled up in her chair looking down at the boys. All of the commotion two boys created during a game of wizard chess was incredible. Though the game was far from boring, she was much more interested in their actions and expressions than the final outcome. 

Hermione wondered if the boys' expressions seemed overly animated to her because she had become accustomed to Snape's subtle changes. Everything was so alive. She sat watching in astonishment. 

After a few minutes Ron had Harry in check and the game was soon over. 

"Another game?" Ron asked as he returned his pieces to the board. 

"We should get to sleep early. We have a Ravenclaw game on Saturday to practice for," Harry replied as he stood up. Hermione could sense that he had been through enough defeat for one night. 

"I bet that greasy git, Snape, assigns some evil paper this week, so that we don't have time to practice." 

Hermione winced at Ron's harsh statement of a person she was very much trying to keep out of her mind. 

In an attempt to cover up her feelings she asked, "Can I come watch you practice tomorrow?" 

"It's really early, 5:00 in the morning. The sun won't even be up yet," Harry warned. 

"I know.  I just haven't watched you two play in a while. I promise I won't spy for the other team." She smiled at her two best friends. 

She had an ulterior motive for asking to go; she longed to see the sunrise. 

~~~***~~~ 

That night as she lay in bed, Hermione realized that having to wake up early to watch the boys practice would be easy, if she never got to sleep. Crookshanks laid on top of her purring and absently knitting in contentment. She was happy one of them was having such a good time. The little sounds that she had taken for granted her whole life now echoed in her ears. It would take her time to become accustomed to the noises of the real world once again. 

Lack of sleep and distractions made her thoughts wander to things that she wished she could forget. She knew if Snape were there, she would find comfort in his movements and sounds easily drifting off to sleep. That was not an option however, and she jolted out of bed displacing her annoyed cat and paced her rooms for a few minutes. Why did she have to think of him? He certainly thought nothing of her. She gazed down at Crookshanks who was giving her a timid look, and she took comfort in his presence. She sighed and lay back down. Eventually she would fall asleep. 

~~~***~~~ 

The trio walked through the moist grass of the early morning grounds on their way to the Quidditch pitch. The sun was still down, but a deep blue tinge near the horizon blended into the blackened sky. 

Ron, with his wild spirit and attitude, was a Beater as George and Fred had been. Harry was team captain, and Hermione glanced over to see him muttering game strategies to himself. 

A slight breeze played with Hermione's hair and rustled the swaying trees. She tilted her head skyward and watched the few faint stars left in the sky twinkle and glimmer. It was all so real and invigorating. 

As soon as the other players had arrived, Harry began enthusiastically, "This is what we've been waiting for. This season will be our time! The Ravenclaws are a tough team and we've never played against their new seeker, so we need to be ready for anything." 

Hermione sat on a bench and watched as a mixture of red, yellow, orange, and pink began to appear on the horizon. She looked around. The colors of her surroundings, though dull from the darkness were brighter than before. She watched all these things while ignoring Harry's inspirational speech. 

Hermione watched the sunrise as the Gryffindors zipped about on their broomsticks like a swarm of insects. They were buzzing in some sort of organized play, but it was a confused mess to Hermione's eyes. Harry suddenly dove very fast towards the ground, pulling up at the last minute. The sun reflected off of the broomsticks and smiling faces as they cheered a successful play. It was all so beautiful. A warm breeze blew through her hair, the birds tweeted, and the players yelled. Her senses were filled. 

As the sun began to show its face, Hermione was so inspired that sitting and watching were not enough. She stood up and idly strolled taking in the fresh morning air. As she rounded the corner to the lake, she was stopped short by a dark figure, his figure, looking out at the water. Snape's presence brought up strong feelings of panic and dread. She gasped and quickly turned to walk towards her room. He must have also wished to see the morning light, that had been absent from both their lives for so long. 

She paced her room for quite some time, thoughts running through her head. How was she to act indifferent around him, when the sight of his silhouette made her react in such a manner? 

"I am such a fool. What am I to do?" She pleaded with Crookshanks to help her find a solution. 

She expressed all of her confusion, guilt, and panic to her cat, who responded by tilting his head sideways. 

She took more than a little time to calm down, but slowly came round to reason. This morning had been a surprise. She would be prepared to see him next time, and so would remain calm and collected. Within an hour, Hermione could focus again and felt that her absence from breakfast might be interpreted oddly. 

The Great Hall was filled with many delicious smells. The scent of maple syrup over pancakes with fried sausages permeated to Hermione, as she made her way to the Gryffindor Table. Breakfast was always lively and noisy, but today, Hermione found that there was far too much going on for her to concentrate. 

As Hermione stiffened from all of the commotion, she was brought back to reality by Ron's voice. 

"You missed the best version of the Daedalus Dive ever!" Ron exclaimed as he chewed and slurped loudly on his meal. 

She had never noticed before how little thought Ron gave to table manners. 

"It was wicked fast!" Ron flung his hand forward imitating a broom. 

His sudden movements caused Hermione to flinch. 

She remembered how confident and comfortable she used to feel talking and eating with her friends. Currently she just felt on edge. 

Hermione took a deep breath and looked up at the High Table. Snape's seat was empty, though all of the others were filled. She was relieved that he was not there, not after her reaction this morning. She wondered if he was having as much difficulty adjusting as she. Really she just wanted to be alone, to be far away from all the noise and commotion. 

~~~***~~~ 

That Tuesday, after breakfast, they had Advanced Potions with the Slytherins. Hermione, Ron and Harry walked to their potions classroom. She passed the grey walls and low arched ceilings. The dungeons were now as familiar to Hermione as anywhere in the castle. She had become quite skilled at potion brewing, having dedicated so much time and energy to the field recently. In spite of all these things, Hermione felt very uncomfortable. 

As she entered the classroom, a tightness developed in her very core. She had planned to act confident, yet indifferent around Snape, but now Hermione found herself not acting like anything. Her nervousness grabbed hold of her so tightly that she dared not speak or raise her head to look around. 

Hermione tried to focus all of her energy on her cauldron, as the green sludge within steamed making the damp dungeons even more humid. 

Snape stalked up and down the rows looking over his students' cauldrons, making snide remarks every so often. He did not however, say a word to Hermione. 

She could hear his harsh steps and the flapping of his robes. She imagined the way his black robes glided behind him and how he wrapped those robes around his body when he glared motionlessly. At this moment however, she did not know if her images were correct. 

Hermione did not once dare to glance up at him, so she did not know if he ever dared a glance at her. She doubted it however, since he was currently reprimanding Lavender Brown, whose green sludge had taken on a decidedly orange tinge. 

"Miss Brown, if you would have taken your eyes off of Mr. Thomas for two minutes and watched what you were adding to your potion, you may not have utterly destroyed it." 

Lavender did not respond, though Hermione pictured her turning a bright shade of pink. She remembered that cruelty, though she tried to push the memory aside. 

After class Hermione felt sick and shaky, but she had made it through a double lesson without incident. She hoped that things would become easier, that her discomfort and pain would ease, so that she could one day look at him again. 

~~~***~~~ 

The rest of the week went by as a blur. Her emotions would jump from annoyance to joy to deep sadness without reason. Only her studies and daily routine kept her sane. Returning to her structured life was reassuring for Hermione. Focusing on classes and studying helped bring a sense of normality to her. She had always found it comforting to focus her mind on work, and so she did. She studied constantly and stayed much of the time in her room. 

On Saturday after breakfast, Hermione walked down to the Quidditch pitch with Dean Thomas. The wind had picked up considerably. There were large puffy clouds overhead, but the blueness of the exposed sky and the freshness of the cool breeze made Hermione feel alive. 

Dean was to be announcing the game, so they made their way to the front box. He pointed his wand at his throat and suddenly his speech reverberated throughout the stadium. Hermione chuckled as she looked at Dean. 

"And the players enter the stadium in their traditional scarlet and blue robes," his voice echoed. 

The two teams centered around Madam Hooch, who soon gave a loud whistle. 

"AND THEY'RE OFF!" 

"Ravenclaw takes possession of the ball straight away. Mandy Brocklehurst passes the Quaffle to Johnson." 

The excitement of the game and students cheering was contagious. Hermione could feel the energy build within her. For the first time in a week, she beamed with happiness. 

"And Peterson steals the ball." 

"Greg is having a tough time of it, snagged between Terry Boot and Su Li, but Peterson dodges a nasty Bludger to.... 

"GRYFFINDORS SCORE!" 

Hermione jumped to her feet clapping and laughing with the rest of her housemates. 

Hermione knew she was beginning to re-adjust to the real world. Loud sounds and movements, which at first had caused her so much stress, now left her with a warm feeling of excitement for her friends and team. 

The game was incredibly exciting. Gryffindor and Ravenclaw played a close game for hours until finally, Harry dove down fast and hard nearly crashing into Brendan Johnson, but sliding under him just in time to grab the Golden Snitch and win the game once more for Gryffindor. 

As Hermione walked up to her room on Saturday night after the Gryffindor victory celebration, she realized that although some things had been difficult, a lot of things were wonderful. She felt she was regaining her optimism, and sense of direction. She was an ambitious learner and that, as well as her friends, had brought her back to some sense of normalcy. Things were definitely not perfect, but she would survive and be a better person for it. 

Hermione moved her skirt from her desk chair, when something fell onto the floor. Bending down, she saw something shiny glimmer in the light. She picked up Snape's watch. 

She had forgotten to give it back to him. As she touched it, all the feelings that she had been pushing to the back of her mind this past week came flooding into her heart. She knew then that she truly loved him, not because she was lonely, but because of whom he had been. Her memories of their time together, of his stories and actions came forth into her mind and she cherished them. Though she wanted the pain gone, she did not wish to eliminate her feelings. His harsh words and actions had made her doubt herself, but she now realized that he was a different person than he wished her to think. She knew that she could not have misinterpreted everything he said or did during their three months together. 

She had to sit, or else she would have collapsed. Her throat tightened and tears came to her eyes as she touched his watch. She wept. 

And as she cried, poor Hermione had no idea of the thoughts and feelings that were, at that moment, going through her Potion Master's mind. 

In his rooms, Professor Snape sat at his desk gently touching a small silver hairclip. This particular clip was the same one that Hermione had carelessly left and, in a moment of weakness, he had picked up and placed in his pocket. As he sat silently staring at this piece, his heart was filled with love and longings that would not soon end. 


End file.
